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MEMOIRS

OP

TEACHERS, EDUCATORS,

AXD

PROMOTERS AND BENEFACTORS OF EDUCATION,

LITERATURE, AND SCIENCE,

Reprinted from, the American Journal of Education.

EDITED BY HENRY BARNARD, LL.D.

Chancellor of the University of "Wisconsin.

PART I. TEACHERS AND EDUCATORl

VOLUME I. UNITED STATES.

NEW YORK:

PUBLISHED BY F. C. BROWNELL,

1859.

<^jk»J<A. V^ .

EsTERBD, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, I17

KEXRY BARNARD,

In the Clerk's Office o<" the District Court of Connecticut.

ii€/^VCT

SECOXD EDITION.

The memoirs wiiich compose this volume, were originally
prepared by the Editor, or at his request, and in some in-
stances from material furnished by him, for the American
Journal of Education, to accompany an account of the In-
stitution, or System of Education, with which the subject
was connected as founder, benefactor, or teacher. The plan
necessarily included persons still living; but of them, the me-
moirs, so far as the editor's wishes were consulted, was con-
fined to their educational activity — no attempt being made
to dwell on other departments of their lives or character.

The selection is made mainly from the first five volumes
of the Journal.

This volume will be followed by a second, devoted to Bene-
factors, and Promoters of Education, Literature, and Science ;
and to both, probably other volumes will be added, from time
to time, in the hope of supplying an acknowledged deficiency
in this department of English and American Literature.

PAET. I.

TEACHERS AND EDUCATORS.

PAKT II.

BENEFACTORS AND PROMOTERS OF EDUCATION,
LITERATURE, AND SCIENCE.

PART I.

TEACHERS AND EDUCATORS.

VOLUME I. UNITED STATES.

CONTENTS.

Page.

Introduction — Educational Biography, 11

Ezekiel Cheever, 13

Samuel Johnson, 43

Caleb Bingham, 53

Timothy Dwight, 78

Thomas H. Gallaudet, 97

Denison Olmsted, 119

Mrs. Emma Willard, 125

Samuel Read Hall, 169

James G. Carter, 182

Warren Colburn, 195

Gideon F. Thayer, 218

William Russell, 227

Harvey P. Peet, 232

William A. Alcott, 249

William C. Woodbridge, 268

Walter R. Johnson, 281

Wilbur Fisk, 297

John Kingsbury, 311

Lowell Mason, 326

George B. Emerson 333

Calvin E. Stowe, 344

Samuel Lewis, 351

Horace Mann, 365

Cyrus Peirce, 405

Nicholas Tillinghast, 439

iyi'^89977

X CONTENTS.

Page

Francis Dwight, 457

David Perkins Page, 465

William F. Phelps, 473

John S. Hart, 481

Frederick A. P. Barnard, 497

EDUCATIONAL BIOGRAPHY.

Hail! tolerant teachers of the race, whose dower
Of spirit-wealth outweiglis the monarchs might,

Blest be your holy mission ! may it shower ^^^ /

Blessings like rain, and bring by human right ^>»«1.— -"^

To all our hearts and hearths, love, liberty, and light.

"We propose to devote a portion of our columns from time to time,
to a series of Biograpliical Sketches of Eminent Teachers and Educa-
tors, who in different ages and countries, and under widely varying
circumstances of religion and government, have labored faithfully and
successfully in different allotments of the great field of human culture.
We hope to do something in this way to rescue from unmerited
neglect and oblivion the names and services of many excellent men
and women, who have proved themselves benefactors of their race by
sheding light into the dark recesses of ignorance and by pre-occupy-
ing the soil, which would otherwise have been covered \vith the
rank growth of vice and crime, with a harvest of those virtues which
bless, adorn, and purify society. Such men have existed in every
civilized state in past times. " Such men," remarks Lord Brougham,
"men deserving the glorious title of teachers of mankind, I have found
laboring conscientiously, though perhaps obscurely, in their blessed voca-
tion, wherever I have gone. I have found them, and shared their fellow-
ship, among the daring, the ambitious, the ardent, the indomitably active
French ; I have found them among the persevering, resolute, industrious
Swiss ; I have found them among the laborious, the warm-hearted,
the enthusiastic Germans ; I have found them among: the hi<jh-minded
but enslaved Italians ; and in our own country, God be thanked, their
numbers every where abound, and are every day increasing. Their
calling is high and holy ; their fame is the property of nations ; their
renown fill the earth in after ages, in proportion as it sounds not far
off in their own times. Each one of these great teachers of the
world, possessing his soul in peace, performs his appointed course,
awaits in patience the fulfillment of the promises, resting from his
labors, bequeathes his memory to the generation whom his works
have blessed, and sleeps under the humble, but not inglorious epi-
taph, commemorating 'one in whom mankind lost a friend, and no
man got rid of an enemy !' ''

12 EDUCATIONAL BIOGRAPHY.

We cannot estimate too highly the services rendered to the civili-
zation of New England, by her early teachers, and especially the
teachers of her Town Grammar Schools. Among these teachers we
must include many of her best educated clergymen, who, in towns
where there was no endowed Free or Grammar School, fitted young
men of piety and talent for college, and for higher usefulness in church
and state. To her professional teachers and clergy it is due, that
schools of even an elementary grade were established and maintained.
But for them the fires of classical learning, brought here from the
Tublic Schools and Universities of England, would have died out, the
class-rooms of her infant colleges would have been deserted, her
parishes would have ceased to claim a scholar for their minister, the
management of affairs in town and state would have fallen into
incompetent hands, and a darkness deeper than that of the surround-
ing forests would have gathered about the homes of the people. In
view of the barbarism into which the second and third generations of
new colonies seem destined to fall, " where schools are not vigorously
encouraged," we may exclaim with the Rev. Dr. Mather —

" 'Tis Corlet's pains, and Cheever's, we must own,
Tbat thou New England, are not Scythia grown. '

Let us then hasten to do even tardy justice to these master
builders and workmen of our popular civilization. In the language
of President Quincy, when about to review the History of Harvard
College for a period of two centuries — " While passing down the
series of succeeding years, as through the interior of some ancient
temple, which displays on either hand the statues of distinguished
friends and benefactors, we should stay for a moment in the presence
of each, doing justice to the humble, illustrating the obscure, placing
in a true light the modest, and noting rapidly the moral and intel-
lectual traits which time has spared ; to the end that ingratitude the
proverbial sin of republics, may not attach to the republic of lettere ;
and that, whoever feeds the lamp of science, however obscurely, how-
ever scantily, may know, that sooner or later, his name and virtues
shall be made conspicuous by its light, and throughout all time
accompany its lusire."

We commence our -Educational Biography — as we propose to
designate the series — with a Sketch, such as we have been able to
draw up from scanty materials, gleaned from torn and almost illegible
records of town, and church, and from scattered items in the publica-
tions, pamphlets, and manuscripts of Historical Societies, Antiqua-
rians, and Genealogists — of Ezekiel Cheever, the Father of Connecti-
cut School-masters, the Pioneer, and Patriarch of elementary classi-
cal culture in New England.

BIOGRAPHY OF EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

WITH NOTES

ON THE EARLY FREE, OR GRAMMAR SCHOOLS OF NEW ENGLAND.

EzEKiEL Cheever, the son of a linen draper of London, was
born in that city on the 25th of January, 1614, Of his education and
life in England, we find no mention ; or any memorial except copies of
Latin verses,* composed by him in London, between the years 1631
and 163V, and manuscript dissertations, and letters written in Latin,
now in the Boston Athaeneum. The pure Latinity of these per-
formances, indicate that he enjoyed and improved no ordinary oppor-
tunities of classical training. He came to this country in 1637, land-
ing at Boston, but proceeding in the autumn of the same, or the spring
of the following year, with Theophilus Eaton, Rev. John Davenport, and
others, to Quinnipiac, where he assisted in planting the colony and
church of New Haven — his name appearing in the "Plantation
Covenant," signed in " Mr. Newman's Barn," on the 4th of June,
1639, among the principal men of the colony. He was also chosen
one of twelve men out of "the whole number thought fit for the
foundation work of a church to be gathered," which " elect twelve "
were charged "to chos© seven out of their own number for the seven
pillars of the church," that the Scripture might be fulfilled " Wisdom
hath builded her house, she hath heion out her seven pillars^

From various considerations it is thought that he held the office of
deacon in the first church of New Haven, from 1644 to 1650, and some-
times conducted public worship. In May 1647, among other " gross mis-
carriages," charged upon one " Richard Smoolt, servant to Mrs. Turner,"
— for the aggregate of which he was "severely whipped," was his ' scof-
fing at the Word of God,' as preached by Mr. Cheevers." He was held
in such esteem by the " free burgesses," as to be elected one of the
"Deputies " from New Haven, to the General Court in October 1646.

He commenced there his career as a schoolmaster in 1638, which ho
continued till 1650, devoting to the work a scholarship and personal
character which left their mark for ever on the educational policy of

* '* A Selection from the Poems of Cheever's Manuscripts" appended to an edition of Rev. Dr.
Mather's Cordeuics Americanus, or Funeral Sermon upon Mr. Ezekiel Cheever, published in
Boston, by Dutton and Wentworth, 182d. •

14 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

New Haven.* His first engagement was in the only scliool, which

was opened within the first year of the settlement of the colony, to

which the " pastor, Mr. Davenport, together with the magistrates,"

were ordered " to consider what yearly allowance is meet to be given

to it out of the common stock of the town." In 1641, a second and

higher grade of school was established, under Mr. Cheever's charge,

to which the following order of the town meeting refers :

" For the better training of youth in tliis town, that, through God's blessing,
they may be fitted for public service hereafter, in church or coninionwealth, it is
ordered that a free school be set up, and the magistrates with the teaching eldei-s
are entreated to consider what rules and orders are meet to be observed, and
what allowance may be convenient for the schoolmaster's care and pains, which
Bhall be paid out of the town's stock."

By Free Schoolef and Free Grammar School,J as used in this extract,

♦To the bright example of such a teacher, and especially to the early, enlightened, and per.
severing labors of the Rev. John Davenport, the first pastor of the first Church of New Ha-
ven, and of Theophilus Eaton, the first Governor of the Colony, is New Haven indebted for
the inauguration of that ediicational policy which has made it a seat of learning from its first
settlement for the whole country. 'J'he wise forecast and labors of these men contemplated,
and to some extent realized ; 1. Common Town Schools, where " all their sons may learn to
read and write, and cast up accounts, and make some entrance into the Latin tongue." 2. A
Common, or Colony School, with " a schoolmaster to teach the three languages, Jiatin,
Greek, and Hebrew, so far as shall be necessary to prepare them for the college." 3. A Town
or County Library. 4. A College for the Colony, " for the education of youth in good litera-
ture, to fit them for public service in church and commonwealth." The whole was made
morally certain by the employment of good teachers from the start. After the retirement of
Mr. Cheever from the school, the records of the Town are full of entries showing the solicitude
of the Governor and Minis-ter in behalf of (he schools and the education of the children and
youth. Under date of Nov. 8, 1052: " The Governor informs the court that the cause of call-
ing this meeting is about a schoolmaster," that "he had written a letter to Mr. Bower, who
as a schoolmaster at Plymouth, and desires to come into these parts to live, and another letter
about one Rev. Mr. Landson, a scholar, who he hears will take that employment upon him,"
— and ''that now Mr. James was come to town, who would teach the boys and girls to read
and write " — " and there would be need of two schoolmasters— for if a Latin scholmaster come,
it is found he will be discouraged, if many English scholars come to him." About the same
date: "The town was informed that therfe is some motion again on foot concerning the set-
ting up of a College here at New Haven, which, if attained will in all likelihood, prove very
beneficial to this place " — " to which no man objected but all seemed willing." At a General
Court of the Colony, held at Guilford, June 28, 1652, " it was thought [the establishment of a
college for New Haven Colony] to be too great a charge for us of this jurisdiction to undergo
alone. But if Connecticut do join, the planters are generally willing to bear their just propor-
tion for creating and maintaining of a college there [New Haven]." " At a town meeting, held
February 7, 1667 ('8], Mr. John Davenport. Senior, came into the meeting, and desired to speak
Bomelhingconcerning the [Grammar] school; and first propounded to the town, whether
they would send their children to the school, to be taught for the fitting them for the service
of God, in church and commonwealth. If they would, then, the grant [made by Mr. D. in
1660, as Trustee of the Legacy of Gov. Hopkins] formerly made to this town, stands good ;
but, if not, then it ia void : because it attains not the end of the donor. Therefore, he desired
they would express themselves." Upon which several townsmen declared their purpose
••of bringing up one or more of their sons to learning," and as evidence of the sincerity of
their declaration, and of the former efforts of Gov. Eaton and Mr. Davenport, in favor of
liberal education, Prof. Kingsley in his Historical Discourse, on the 200th Anniversary of
the First Settlement of the Town, remarks:— "Of the graduates of Harvard College, from its
foundation to year 1700 [the founding of Yale College], as many as one in thirty, at least, were
from the town of New Haven "—with a population, so late as the year 1700, of only five hun.
dred persons.— .STj-e Harnard's History of Education in Connecticut, IS53.

^'he first estublishmeiil of the Frkk School— or School for the gratuitjus instruction of poor

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. n^

and in the early records both of towns and the General Court in Conneo-
ticut and Massachusetts, was not intended the Com mon or Public School,

children can be traced back to the early ages of the Christian Church. Wherever a missionary
station was set up, or the Dishops' residence or Seat [cathedra, and hence Cathedral] was fixed
there gradually grew up a large ecclesiastical establishment, in which were concentrated the means
of hospitality for all the clergy, and all the humanizing influences of learning and religion for that
diocese or district. Along sidw of the Cathedral, and sometimes within the edifice where divine
worship was celebrated, "a song scole," where poor boys were trained to chant, and the "lecture
scole," where clerks were taught to read the sacred ritual, and in due time the ''grammar school"
when those who were destined for the higher services of church and state were educated according
to the standard of the times, were successively established. The monasteries were also originally
seats of learning, as well as places of religious retirement, of hospitality for the aged and infirm,
and of alms for the poor of the surrounding country. Their cloister schools were the hearth-stones
of classical education in every country of Europe, and were the germs of the great Universities,
which were encouraged and endowed by learned prelates and beneficient princes for the support and
exaltation of the Christian faith and the improvement of the liberal artj. But for the endowments
and the ordinances and recommendations of early synods and councils, these schools might have
been accessible only to the children of the titled and the wealthy. The council of Lyons in 1215,
decreed "that in all cathedral churches and others provided with adequate revenues, there should
be established a school and a teacher by the bishop and chapter, who should teach the clerks and
poor scholars gratis in grammar, and for this purpose a stipend shall be assigned him ;" and the
third council of Lateran still earlier ordained — "that opportunity of learning should not be wiUj-
drawn from the poor, who are without help from patrimonial riches, there shall be in every cathe-
dral a master to teach both clerks and poor scholars gratis," In the remodelling of the cathedral
establishments, and the demolition of the monasteries by Henry VIIL. and his successors, several of
the cathedral schools were provided for, and Royal Grammar Schools founded out of the old
endowments. — See Barnard's KationaZ Education in Europe.

X The names, by which the various educational insfitutions in the colonies were designated
in the early records and laws on the subject, were adopted with the institutions themselves
from the fatherland, and must be interpreted according to the usage prevailing there at the
time. By a Grammar ^S'cAooZ— whether it was a continuation of the old Grammar School of
the Cathedral, or the Cloister School of the Monastery, in some cases dating back even beyond
the reign of Alfred— or newly endowed by Royal Authority out of the spoils of the religious
houses, by Henry VIIL, Elizabeth, or Edward VI.— or established by benevolent individuala
afterwards— was meant a school for the teaching of Greek and Latin, or in some cases Latin
only, and for no other gratuitous teaching. A few of the poor who were unable to pay for
their education were to be selected — some according to the parish in which they were born
or lived, some on account of the name they bore,— and to receive instruction in the learned
languages, and under certain conditions to be siii)porfed through the university. These Public
Grammar schools were thus the nurseries of the scholars of England, and in them the poor
and the rich, to some extent enjoyed equal advantages of learning, and through them the way
to the highest honors in the state, and the largest usefulness in the church was opened to tha
humblest in the land.— -S'ee Barnard's National Education in Europe.

'^Considerations concerning Free Schools as settled in England'* by Christopher
Wase, publif?hed in Oxford, 1678. Carlisle's " Endowed Grammar Schools in England and
Waks," 2 vols, London. 1818. Ackermanns," History of the Principal Schools of England,"
London, 181G. Parliamentary Reports of Commissioners to enquire info the Endowed Char-
ities of England and Wales from 1826 to 1850.

The Free Schools of England were originally established in towns where there was no old
Conventual, Cathedral, Royal or Endowed Grammar School. With very few exceptions these
schools were founded and endowed by individuals, for the teaching of Greek, and Latin, and
for no other gratuitous teaching. The gratuitous instruction was sometimes extended to all
the children born or living in a particular parish, or of a particular name. All not specified
and provided for in the instruments of endowment paid tuition to the master.

The total value of Endowed Charities for Education in England and Wales, including the
Grammar and Free Schools, and excluding the Universities and Great Public Schools o( Eton,
&c., according to a late report of the Commissioners for Inquiry info tneir condition, is
returned at £75 000.000. and the annual income at .£l.209.-395, which, by more judicious and
faithful management, it is estimated, can be raised to £1000 000, or €20.000 000 a year.— ^Bar-
nard's National Education in Europe, P. 736,

IQ EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

as aft'^rwards developed, particularly in Massachusetts, supported by tax,
and free of all charge to all scholars rich and poor ; neither was it a Charity
School, exclusively for the poor. The term was applied here, as well
as in the early Acts of Virginia* and other states, in the same sense,
in which it was used in England, at the same and much earlier
dates, to characterize a Grammar School unrestricted as to a class
of children or scholars specified in the instruments by which it was
founded, and so supported as not to depend on the fluctuating
attendance and tuition of scholars for the maintenance of a master.
In every instance in which we have traced their history, the " free

* The Virginia Company in 1619, instructed the Governor for the time being to see "that
each Town, Borough, and Hundred procured, by just means, a certain number of their chil-
dren, to be brought up in the first elements of literature : that the most towardly of them
Bhould be fitted for college, in the building of which they proposed to proceed as soon as
any profit arose from the estate appropriated to that use ; and they earnestly required their
utmost help and furtherance in that pious and important work." In lfi21, Mr. Copeland,
chaplain of the RoyalJames, on her arrival from the East Indies, prevailed on the ships
company to subscribe JEIOO toward '-a free schoole," and collected other donations of
money and books for the same purpose. The school was located in Charles City, as being
most central for the colony, and was called " The East India School." The company
allotted 1000 acres of land, with five servants and an overseer, for the maintenance of the
master and usher. The inhabitants made a contribution of JEISOO to build a house, &c.

A second Free School was established in Elizabeth City in 1642; although Gov. Berkeley,
in 1670, in reply to the Question of the Commissioners of Foreign Plantations, " what course
is taken about instructing the people within your government in the Christian religion ; and,
what provision is there made for the paying of your ministry 7" answered as follows: —

"The same course that is taken in England out of towns ; every man, according to his
ability, instructing his children. We have forty-eight parishes, and our ministers are well
paid, and, by my consent, should be better, if they would pray oftener, and preach less. But,
of all other commodities, so of this, the worst are sent us, and we have had few we could
boast of since the persecution in Cromwell's tyranny drove pious, worthy men here. But,
1 thank God, there are no free schools, nor printing, and, I hope we shall not liave these
hundred years; for, learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, and sects into the world,
and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from
both ! "

To the same question the Governor of Connecticut, replied : "Great care is taken for the
instruction of the people in the Christian Religion, by the ministers catechising of them and
preaching to them twice every Sabbath day, and sometimes on Lecture days, and also by
masters of families instructing and catechising their children and servants, being required so
lo do by law. There is in every town, except one or two new towns a settled minister, whose
maintenance is raised by rate, in some places jElOO, in some jEQO, &c." In a subsequent
answer to similar questions the Governor states that one-fourth of the annual revenue of the
Colony, " is laid out in maintaining free [common] schools for theeducationof our children."

The first school established in Manhattan [New York], was by the West India Company, in
1633. This was an Elementary Parochial School under the management of the deacons of the
Dutch Church, and is still continued. The first " Latin Schoolmaster" was sent out by
the Company in 1659. In 1702 a " Free Grammar School " was partially endowed on the
King's farm ; and in 1732 a " Free School for teaching the Latin and Greek and practical
branches of mathematics " was incorporated by law. The bill for this school, drafted by Mr.
Phillipse, the Speaker, and brought in by Mr. Delancey, had this preamble ; " Whereas the
youth of this Colony are found by manifold experience, tube not inferior in their natural gen-
iuses, to the youth of any other country in the world, therefore be it enacted, &c."— ^-ee Dun-
shce'a History of the School of the Reformed Protestant Dutch Church. 1853. Smith's His-
tory of Nev York.

The first school Act of Maryland was passed in 1694, and is entitled a " Supplicatory Act to
their sacred Majesties for erecting of Free Schools," meaning thereby the endowment of
" schools, or places of study of Latin, Greek, writing, and the like, consisting of one master, one
usher, and one writing master," &c.

EZEKIEL CHE EVER, |Y

schools" of New England]; were endowed by grants of land, by gift
and bequests of individuals, or by "allowance out of the ccimmon
stock of the town," were designed especially for instruction in Latin

* The earliest mention of the establishment of " free schools" by Gov. Winthi-op, in hid
History of New England, is under date of 1645, in the following language: "Divers free
schools were erected, as at Roxbury, (for maintainance whereof every inhabitant bound some
house or land for a yearly allowance for ever) and at Boston (where they made an order to
allow 50 pounds to the master and an house, and 30 pounds to an usher, who should also
teach to read, and write, and cipher, and Indians' children were to be taught freely, and the
charge to be by yearly contribution, either by vohintary allowance, or by rate of such as
refused, etc., and tJjis order was confirmed by the general court [blank]. Other towns did
the like, providing maintainance by several means." Savage's Winthrop, Vol. II, p. 215.

We know by the original documents publislied by Parker in his " Sketch of the History of the
Grammar School in the Easterly Part of Roxbury," the character of the Free School erected in
that town. It was an endowed Grammar School, in which" none ol the inhabitants of the said
town of Roxbury that shall not join in this act (an instrument, or subscription paper, binding
the subscribers and their estates for ever to the extent of their subscription "to erect a free
schoole " " for the education of their children in Literature to fit them for publicke service,
bothe in the Churche and Commonwealthe, in succeeding ages,") with the rest of the Donors
shall have any further benefit thereby than other strangers shall have who are not inhabit-
ants." The school thus established was a Grammar School, as then understood in England,
and was free only to the children of those for whom, or by whom it was endowed, and only
to the extent of the endowment. This school, although not till within a few years past a
Free School, or part of the system of Public Schools, according to thd modern acceptation of
the term, has been a fountain of higher education to that community and the state.

The early votes establishing and providing for the support of the " free schools " in Bos-
ton, as well as in other towns in Mass., while they recognize, by grants of land and allowance
out of the common stock, the interest and duty of the public in schools and universal educa-
tion, also provide for the payment by parents of a rate or tuition. Among the earliest as-
signments of lands in Boston was a "garden plott to Mr. Danyell Maude, schoolemaster," in
1637 ; a tract of thirty acres of land at Muddy Brook, (now part of Brookline), to Mr. Fer-
ment, (or Permont, or Porment,) who, in 1635, was " intreated to become scholemaster for
the teaching and nurturing of children with us." In 1641, "it is ordered that Deare Island be
improved for the maintenance of Free Schoole for the towne." In 1654, " the ten pounds
left by the legacy to y* schoole of Boston, by Miss. Hudson, deceased," is let to Capt. Olliver,
Under date of August 6, 1636, there i.s, in the first volume of the Town Records of Boston, a
subscription " towards the maintenance of free schoolemaster, Mr. Daniel Maude, being now
chosen thereunto." In the provision made in 1645, jt is provided that " Indian children shall
be taught gratis;" implying that tuition was, or might be, exacted from all others. In 1650,
" it is also agreed on that Mr. Woodmansy, ye schoolmaster, shall have fifty pounds p. an.
for his teaching ye echollars, and his p. portion to be made up by rate." In a vote passed
1682, authorizing the selectmen to establish one or more " free schools to teach children to write
and cypher "—the Committee with the Selectmen allow jE25 per annum for each school, " and
such persons as send their children to school (that are able) shall pay something to the master
for his better encouragement in his work."

Mr. Felt in his Annals of Salem, has given transcripts from the records of that town, which
show the gradual development of the Free School, from an endowed school, devoted princi-
pally to preparing young men for college, and free only to poor but bright children, who
gave promise of becoming good scholars— into a system of public schools, for children of all
ages, and of every condition and prospects in life, supported entirely by property tax or
public funds In 1641, at the Quarterly Court, Col. Endicott moved "a flfree skoole and
therefore wished a whole town meeting about it." In 1644 it is "Ordered that a note be
Dublished one the next lecture day, that such as have chikjreu to be kept at schoole, would
bring in their names and what they will giue for one whole yeare and, also, that if any poore
body hath children or a childe, to be put to schoole and not able to pay for their schooling,
that the towne will pay it by a rate " In 1670, the selectmen are ordered "to take care to
provide a Grammar school master, and agree with him for his mayntenance." He was to
have jE20 a year from the town, and " half pay for all scollers of the towne, and whole pay
from strangers. " In 1677, "Mr. Daniel Eppes is called to bee a grammar schoolemaster,"
"provided hee may haue what shall be annually allowed him, not be a town rate, bull in

B

2 8 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

and Greek, and were supported in part by payments of tuition or
rates by parents. These schools were the well-springs of classical
education in this country, and were the predecessors of the incorpora-
ted Academies which do not appear under that name until a compara-
tively recent period.

The only Free Schools provided for in the early legislation of Con-
necticut were town or county Grammar Schools, to prepare young
men for college ; and instruction in these schools was not gratuitous.
"Beyond the avails of any grant of land, endowment, legacy, or allow-
ance from the common stock," parents, who were able, were assessed a
certain rate according to the number and time of attendance of child-
ren sent. Thus, under the order of the town-meeting of New Haven,
in 1641, above cited, " twenty pounds a year was paid to Ezekiel
Cheevers, the present school-master, for two or three years, at first.
But that not proving a competent mayntenance, in August, 1644, it
■was enlarged to thirty pounds a yeare, and so continueth ; " and, that
this allowance was not all that the school-master received is evident
from the following entry, under date of July 8, 1643 : "Mr. Cheevers
desired 4-3-6 out of the estate of Mr. Trobridge, wch is justly
due to him for teaching of children." This mode of supporting
schools was continued in Connecticut in respect to public schools of
every grade ; a mode which recognizes at once the duty of the parent
or guardian of children, and of the public, and encourages endow-
ments so far as not to weaken the sense of parental and public re-
sponsibility as to education. Under this system, for one hundred and
fifty years prior to the beginning of the present century, Connecticut
solved the great problem of univei-sal education so that in 1800 a

Bome other suteable way." In 1699, " each scholar is to pay 12d a month, and what this
lacked should be made up out of the ''funds sett apart for ye Grammar schoole." In 1713,
"the committee perceiving that 2» a quarter for each boy of the Latin and English schools,
in the body of the town, was insufficient, agreed that it should be 2/6 in money, payable at
the commencement of the term. Every ' scholar that goes in the winter, to find three feet
of wood, or to pay to their masters 4/6 in money, to purchase wood withal.' " In 1729, " Sam-
uel Brown grants unto the Grammar school in Salem, to be kept in or near the town house
street, X120 passable money, to make the same a free school, or towards the educating of
eight or ten poor scholars, yearly, in the Grammar learning or the mathematics, viz: the
mariner's art ; the interest thereof to be improved only for that end forever, as a committee,
chosen by the town of Salem, for the taking care of said school may direct, with the advice
of the minister or ministers of the first church and myself or children or two of the chief of
their posterity. Mr Brown then stated, that he gave je60 to the English school so that its
income might be applied 'towards making the same a free school, or for learning six poor
scholars ;' and a like sum ' to a woman's school, the interest thereof to be yearly improved for
the learning of six very poor children their letters and to spell and read, who may be seal
to said school six or seven months in the year.' He required, that the two last donations
should be managed by the same trustees as the first." By slow degrees the system was ex-
panded so as to embrace Evening Schools for children who cannot attend the day Schools,
Primary Schools for young children. Intermediate Schools, English High Schools for Girls,
English High School for Boys, and a Latin School.

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. -jO

famil}^ " wliicli had suffered so mucli barbarism as not teach by them-
selves or others, their children and apprentices so much learning as
may enable them to read the English tongue," or even an individual
" unable to read the Holy Word of God, and the good laws of the
Colony," was not to be met with.*

Mr. Cheever removed to Ipswich, in Massachusetts, in November
1650, and took charge of the Grammar School, which was established
and supported in the same manner as similar schools in other parts
of New England. Public spirited individuals made donations, and
the Town early set apart land "toward the building and maintainiuo-
of a Grammar Schoole and schoole-m aster," and in 1652 appointed
a committee " to disburse and dispose such sums of money as have or
may be given " for these objects, with power to enlarge the main-
tainance of the master, " by appointing from yeare to yeare what
each scholar shall yearly or quarterly pay or proportionably." Of his
labors here as a teacher, we have been able to gather no memorial —
except that from an entryf under date of 1661, it appears that his
agricultural operations required a barn, and that he planted an
orchard on his homestead — thereby improving the soil of Ipswich as
well as the souls of her children, by healthy manual labor. It is to
be regretted that the early practice of attaching a house for the occu-
pancy of the master, with a few acres of land for garden, orchard^,
and the feeding of a cow, adopted with the school from the old
world, was not continued with the institution of new schools, down
to the present time. It would have given more of professional per-
manence to the employment of teaching, and prevented the growth
of that " barbarism of boarding round," which is still the doom of

* That the same system of Common or Public Schools prevailed in Massachusetts, is not only evi-
dent from the early records of Boston, Ipswich, Roxbury, Charlestown, and Salem and other towns
in that colony, but it is expressly provided for in the first formal order on the subject of schools,
enacted in 1647 — " It is therefore ordered yt every tovvneship in this jurisdiction after ye Lord hath
increased ym to ye number of 50 housholders shall then forthwith appoint one within their towne
to teach all such children, as shall resort to him to write and reade, whose wages shall be paid either
by ye parents or masters of such children, or by ye inhabitants in generall by way of supply, as yc
maior part of those y* order ye prudentials of ye towne shall appoint, provided those yt send their
children be not oppressed by paying much more yn they can have yn» taught for in other townes."

From that time to the present, the laws of the Colony and the State, have made it obligatory
an towns to establish and sustain schools, but for near a century and half left them free as to the
mode of paying the teacher and providing the incidental expenses of the school. Even after it was
made compulsory on the town to keep a literally free school for a certain number of months m
each year, out of a tax collected with other taxes of the town, the same school in a majority of the
country districts was continued as a subscription or pay school under the same teacher, by the pay-
ment by parents of a certain rate for the number of scholars sent. The term of the free school was
also prolonged by the system of boarding the teacher round in the families of the district, and by
contributions of a certain quantity of Wood for each scholar.

t " The barn erected by Ezekiel Cheever, and the orchard planted by him, were after his
removal to Charlestown, bought by the feofees, [committee and trustees of the Grammar
School] and presented for the use of the master."— Fe//'* History of Ipswich.

20 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

the teacher in District Schools in many parts of New England, and
operates very powerfully to drive men with families from the service
of tlie public schools.

In November, 1661, Mr. Cheever, after making the Free School at
Ipswich " famous in all the country," and thereby, according to Dr.
Bentley, making that town rank in literature and population above
other towns in the county of Essex, removed to Charlestown, where
early efforts had been made to establish a Town Free School, by
^-anting, in 1647, "a rate of fifteen pounds to be gathered of the
town," and by the rents of the island," and of " Mystik Wear." Of his
labors here we find but scanty memorials. Even in these early days
the schoolmaster was not always paid his pittance in due season ; did
not always find his school-house in good repair, and had reason to
complain that other masters " took his scholars," and thereby doubt-
less diminished his income from rates or quarter bills. On the 3d
November, 1666, Mr. Cheever presented the following "motion" to
the selectmen :

" First, that they would take care the school house be speedily amended
because it is much out of repair.

Secondly, that they would take care that his yearly salary be paid, the con-
stables being much behind with him.

Thirdly, putting them in mind of their promise at his first coming to town,
viz. that no other schoolmaster should be suffered, or set up in the town so as he
could teach the same, yet now Mr. Mansfield is suffered to teach and take away
his scholars."*

After laboring nine years at Charlestown, Mr. Cheever moved over to

Boston, Jan. 6th, 1670, where his labors were continued for eight and

thirty years — commencing from a period of life when most modem

teachers break down. The manner of his engagement to teach the " Free

Schoole," which has been known since 1790, as the Latin School,* of

Boston, is thus recorded, under the date 22. 10th (December) 1670:

"At a Meetinge of the hon""^. Govern*". Richard Bellingham, Esq.

Major Generall John Leveret, Edward Tynge Esq^ Majestrates, Mr.

John Mayo, Mr. John Oxenbridge, Mr. Thomas Thatcher, and Mr.

* Frothingham's History of Charlestown, p. 157. In the same year Mr. Frothingham«rivesaa
Order of the Selectmen relative to the behavior of children on the Lord's Day, in which Mr.
Cheever is introduced : '• We judge it our duty to commend ii as our affectionate desire to
all our inhabitants, concerned herein to further us with their cheerful endeavors, and that
each person whom we nominate would in his term sit before the youths pew on Lords day
during the morning and evening exercise. It being our joint expectation that all youths
under fifteen years of age unless on grounded exemption by us, do constantly sit in some one
ofthose three pews made purposely for them. It is our desire that all parents and governors
will require their children and servants of the capacity aforesaid to sit and continue orderly
in those pews except mr. Cheevers scholars, who are required to sit orderly and constantly
in the pews appointed for them together. It is moreover commended to the conscientious
care and endeavour of those that do sit before the youths ])ews Lords days to observe their
carriage, and if any youth shall carry it rudely and irreverently to bring them before one of
our magistrates with convincing testimony that due course may be taken with them for the
discourasemenl of them and any others of like profane behavior."

EZEKIEL CIIEEVER. 21

James Allen Eld", Capt. Thomas Lake, Capt. Jamss Olliver, Mr.
John Richards, and John Joylifte selectmen of Bostone. It was or-
dered and agreed that Mr. Ezechiell Chevers, Mr. Tomson & ^Mr.
Hinksman should be at the Govern" house that day sevennight to
treate with them concerninge the free schoole." " At a Meetinge of
the same gentlemen " as above, with the addition of Mr. Ilezekinh
Usher, " it was agreed and ordered that Mr. Ezechiell Cheevers should
be called to &; installed in the free schoole as head Master thereof,
which be, being then present, accepted of: likewise that Mr. Thom-
son should be invited to be an assistant to Mr. Cheevers in his worke
in the schoole; wh<^*^ Mr. Tompson, beinge present, desired time to
consider of, and to give his answere ; — And upon the third day of
January, gave his answer to Major Generall Leverett in the negative,
he havinge had and accepted of, a call to Charlestowne." On the
6th day of the next month, the same honorable gentlemen, excepting
Mr. Usher, " beinge met repaired to the schoole and sent for Mr.
Tompson who, when he came, declared his removall to Charlestowne
— and resigned up the possestion of the schoole and schoole house to
the Govern"^ &;ca, who delivered the key and possestion of the schoole
house to Mr. Ezechiell Cheevers as the sole Mast"^. thereof. And it
was farther agreed that the said Mr. Cheevers should be allowed
sixtie pounds p. an. for his seruice in the schoole, out of the towne
rates, and rents that belonge to the schoole — and the possestion, and
use of y® schoole house."

*Tlie foregoing transcript from the Town Records are printed from Gould's "Account of
the Free Schools in Boston," first published in the " Prize Book, No. IV.,ofthePublick Latin
School," in 1823. Mr. Gould (Benjamin A.) was, for twenty-eight years, (1814 to 1838), head
master of this school ; and, under his administration, it rose from a temporary depression to
•which it had been gradually falling under his predecessor, into a high state of efficiency, from
which it has never again declined. He is still living in the enjoyment of a green old age, w^hich
seems to have descended as an heir-loom from Master Cheever to his successors. His Ac-
count of the System of Public or Free Schools in Boston was a valuable contribution to the
educational literature of the day, and helped to raise public attention in other cities of the
state and country to a higher standard of popular education than had been reached or regard-
ed as practicable out of Bo.ston.

The History of " the Free Schools," the public schools and other means of Popular
Education generally in Boston, from its first inception in the entreating of " Brother Philemon
Pormont to become schoolmaster for the teaching and nurturing of children " in 1634, the set-
ting apart of grants of land, and allowances from the common stock, the protection of trust
estates and bequests for school purposes, and the raising of additional maintainance by sub-
scripticn in 1636 to reduce the rate of tuition in higher, as well as elementary instruction—
througl all the stages of progress,— the introduction of the dame School, Grammar School,
Charity School, Writing School, the admission of girls as well as boys, the Primary School,
the English High School, and the Normal School,— the Reformatory and Farm School— the
Library,— Social, Incorporated, and Free,— the Public Press, from the Newsletter of 1704,
to the Quarterly, Monthly, Weekly, and Daily issue,— the Debating Class and Public Lecture
in all their agencies and helps of self-education and social and literary amusement, as well
as of scientific research— a History of Public Schools and Popular Education in Boston from
1630 to 1S55, embracing a connected view of all the institutions and agencies which
supply the deficiency, and determine the character of the instruction given in the Homes and
the Schools of a people, would be one of the most valuable contributions, which could be
• made to the History of American Civilization and the Progress of Society

22 EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

The SCHOOL HOUSE into which Mr. Choever was installed as
the " solo Master," by the Honourable Govenor, and Magistrates of
the Colony, the Elders of the Churches, and Selectmen of the Town
of Boston, and in which he continued to sway "the rod of empire"
for thirty-five years over " govenors, judges, ministers, magistrates,
and merchants yet in their teens," is thus represented.*

The SCHOOL itself under his long, faithful, and distinguished ser-
vices became the principal classical school not only of Massachusetts
Bay, but according to Rev. Dr. Prince, " of the British Colonies, if not
of all America."

* For this vignette of Mr. Cheever's School-house, we are indebted to the Rev. Edward E.
Hals, of Worcester.

" Cheever's school-house occupied land on the North side of School street, nearly opposite
the present Horticultural Hall. It was large enough to contain one hundred and fifty pupils.
Al the present time, the east wall of the Stone Chapel stands on the site of the old building,
which was removed, after much controversy, to make room for the building of the Chapel,
in 1748. The outline of the old building, and some general sketch of iis appearance appear
on an old map of Boston, dated 1722, of which, a copy is now in possession of Mr. Pulsifer,
of Boston. On this map, every building was represented, on the spot it occupied, with some
effort at precision. From this map Cheever's school-house is represented in this sketch.
King's Chapel is drawn from a view of more pretensions, representing ttie whole town, from
a point above the harbor, in 1744. In that view, unfortunately, Cheevers school-house does
not appear. As King's Chapel was materially enlarged in 1710, it has been represented here
as being, in Cheever's tim?, somewhat shorter than in the authority alluded to. In an early
print, described by Dr. Greenwood, a crown was represented below its vane, which has,
therefore, been placed there in this sketch."

Mr. Gould introduces into his notice of the controversy which attended the removal of
the old school house, to make room for an enlargement of the church, the following im-
promptu epigram written by Joseph Green. Esqr., and sent to Mr. Lovell in the School,
when it was announced tliat the town had agreed to grant permission to the proprietors of
King's Chapel to tapke down the old house.

A fig for your learning: I'tell you the Town,
To make the church larger, must pull the school down.
Unluckily spoken, replied Ma.«tcr Birch-
Then learning, I fear, stops the growth of the Church.
We are also Indebted to the Rev. Edward Everett Hale, for the opportunity of consulting
his own '^Notesfora History of the Latin School of Boston," [in which he has transcribed
nne of Cheever's Latin Dissertations from the "Cheever Manuscripts," in the Mas.sachusetts
flislorical Society, and a synopsis of the rest, as well as a letter in Latin to his son, afterward
tli" Rev. T. Cheever, of M.-irblehead. who had asked his consent to marry a young lady of
8a!em,] an(l other valuable memoranda and assistance.

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. 23

Some light is thrown on tlie internal economy of the school under
Mr. Cheever's charge, of the age at which pupils were admitted, the
motives to study and good behavior appealed to, the punishments in-
flicted, as well as on the importance attached to religious training in
the family and the school at that day, in the biographies of several
of his pupils who became eminent in after life.

The Autobiography of the "Rev. John Barnard, of Marblehead,
drawn up by him, in 1766, in the 85th year of his age, at the request
of the Rev. Dr. Stiles, of Yale College, and printed for the first time in
the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society — Third series,
Vol. v., p. 177 to 243, contains a sketch of his school experience
under Mr. Cheever's tuition, and glimpses of the family and college
training of that early day. In the extracts which follow, the chasms
are found in the mutilated manuscript, and the words printed in
Italics are inserted from conjecture by the Publishing Committee of
the Society.

" I was born at Boston, 6th November 1681 ; descended from reputable parents,
viz. John and Esther Barnard, remarkable for then- piety and benevolence, who
devoted me to the service of God, in the work of the ministry from my very
birth ; and accordingly took special care to instruct me themselves in the prin-
ciples of the Christian religion, and kept me close at school to furnish my young
miiid with the knowledge of letters. By that time I had a little passed my sixth
year, I had left my reading-school, in the latter part of which my mistress made
me a sort of usher, appointing me tof teach some children that were older thaa
myself, as well as smaller ones ; and in which time I had read my Bible through
thrice. My parents thought me to be weakly, because of my thin habit and pale
countenance, and therefore sent me into the country, where I spent my seventh
summer, and by the change of air and diet and exercise I grew more fleshy and
hardy ; and that I might not lose my reading, was put to a school-mistress, and
returned home in the fall.

In the spring 1689, of my eighth year I was sent to the grammar-school,

* Of the author of this autobiography, the Rev. Dr. Chauncey, of Boston, in a letter to Dr.
Stiles, dated May 6, 1768, says : "He is now in his eighty-seventh year. I esteem him one of
our greatest men. He is equalled by few in regard either of invention, liveliness of imagina-
tion, or strength and clearness in reasoning." On the burning of the Library of Harvard
College, in 1764, he presented many books from his own library, and imported others from
England to the value of ten pounds sterling; and, in his will, bequeathed two hundred
pounds to the same institution. He died January 24, 1770, in the eighty-ninth year of his age,
" Of his charities," he remarks, in his autobiography, " I always thought the tenth of my in-
come due to our great Melchisedeck. My private ones are known unto God ; but, there is
rne way of service I venture to tell you of; I have generally kept two boys of poor parents
at school, and, by this means, have been instrumental in bringing up, from unlikely families,
such as have made good men, and valuable members of the Commonwealth."

t It appears from this statement that this unnamed .school-mistress adcijited the monitorial
system a century and more before Bell, or Lancaster, or their respective adherents convulsed
the educational world of England by their claims to its authorship. She applied the princi-
ple of mutual instruction which is as old as the human family, and which has been tried
to some extent, in all probability, in the instruction and discipline of many schools in every
age of the world. Certain it is, that the system, with much of the modern machinery of
monitors, was adopted by Trotzendorf, in Germany, in the sixteenth century, and by Paulet
in France, many years before these two champions of an tconomical system of popular edu-
cation, by means of one head master, with boys and girls for assistants, in a school of many
hundred children, evej set up their model schools in Madras or London.

24 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

under the tuition of the aged, venerable, and justly famous Mr. Ezekiel Cheever.
But aftei" a few weeks, an odd accident drove me from the school. There was
an older lad entered tiie school the same week with me ; we strove who should
outdo ; and he beat me by the help of a brother in the upper class, who stood
behind master with the accidence open for him to read out off; by whieh means
lie could recite his * * three and four times in a forenoon, and the same in
the afternoon ; but I who had no such help, and was obliged to conmiit all to
memory, could not keep pace with him ; so that he would be always one lesson
before me. My ambition could not bear to be outdone, and in such a fiaudulent
manner, and therefore I Kft the school. About this time arrived a dissenting
minister from England, who opened a private school for reading, writing, and
Latin. My good father put me under his tuition, with whom I spent a year and
a half. The gentleman neeiving hut little encouragement^ threw up his school,
and returned me to my father^ and again I was sent to my aged Mr. Cheever, who
placed me in the lowijst e!a.ss ; but fmding I soon read through my * » » ^
in a few weeks he advanced me to the ♦ * * ^ and the next year made
me the head of it.

In the time of my absence from Mr. Cheever, it pleased God to take to him-
self my dear mother, who teas not only a very virtuous, but a very mtelligent
woman. She was exceeding fond of my learning, and taught me to pray. My
go<xl father also instructed we, and made n little closet for me to retire to for my
morning and evening devotion. But, alas ! how childish and ^y/)ocritical were
all my pretensions to piety ^ there being little or no serious thoughts of God and
religion in me. »»*»*»»*««»

Though my master advanced me, as above, yet I was a very naughty boy,
much given to play, insomuch that he at length openly declared, " You Barnard,
I know you can do well enough if you will ; but you are so full of play that you
hinder your classmates from getting their lessons ; and therefore, if any of them
cannot peiform their duty, I shall correct you for it." One unlucky day, one
of my classmates did not look into his book, and therefore could not say his
lesson, though I called upon him once and again to mind his book: upon which
our master beat me. I told master the reason why he could not say his les.son
was, his declar'm^ he would beat me if any of the class were wanting in their
duty ; since which this boy would not look into his book, though I called upon
him to mind his book, as the class could witness. The boy was pleased with my
being corrected, and persisted in his neglect, for whieh I was still corrected, and
that for several days. I thought, in justice, I ought to correct the boy, and
compel him to a better tempt.r ; and therefore, after school was done, I went
up to him, and told him I had been beaten several times for his neglect; and
since master would not correct him I would, and I should do so as often as I
was Cfirrected for him ; and then drubbed him heartily. The boy never came to
school any more, and so that unhaf)py affair ended.

Though I was often beaten for my play, and my little roguish tricks, yet 1
don't remember that I was ever beaten for my book more than once or twice.
One of these was upon this occasion. Master put our class upon turning ^sop's
Fables into Latin verse. Some dull fellows made a shift to perform this to accept-
ance : but I was so much duller at this exercise, that I could make nothing of it;
for which master corrected me, and this he did two or three days going. I had
honestly trie<l my i)ossibIes to perform the task ; but having no poetical fancy,
nor then a capacity opened of expressing the same i<lea by a variation of phrases,
though I was perfectly acquainted with prosody, I found I could do nothing ; and
therefore plainly told my master, that I had diligently labored all I could to per-
form what he required, and perceiving I had no genius for it, I thought it was in
vain to .strive against nature any longer; and he never more required it of me,
Nor had I any thing of a poetical genius till after I had been at College some
time, when upon reading some of Mr. Cowley's works, I was highly pleased, and
a new scene opened before me.

I remember once, in maliing a piece of T^tin, my master found fault with the
syntax of one word, which was not so used by me heedlessly, but designedly, and
therefore I told him there was a plain grammar rule for it. lie angiily replied,
there was no such rule. I Uiok the gramm.ar and showed the rule to him. Tlien
he smilingly said, "Thou art a brave boy; I had forgot it.". And no wonder j
for he was then above eighty years old.

EZEKIEL CriEEVER. 25

"We continue these extracts beyond the passages which relate to
Mr. Barnard's experience in Mr. Cheever's school, because they throw
liofht on colleofe hfe at that time.

" From the grammar school I was admitted into the college, in Cambridge, in
New England, in July, 1696, under the Presidentship of the very reverend and
excellent Dr. Increase Mather, (who gave me for a thesis, Habenti dahitur,) and
the tutorage of those two grej^t men, xMr. John Levcrett, (afterwards President,)
and Mr. William Brattle, (afterwards the worthy minister of Cambridge.) Mr.
Leverett became my special tutor for about a year and a half, to whom succeeded
Mr. Jabez Fitch, (afterwards the minister of Ipswich with Mr. John Rogers, who,
at the invitation of the church in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, removed to
them.) Upon my entering into college, I became chamber-mate, the first year,
to a senior and a junior sophister; which might have been greatly to my advan-
tage, had they been of a studious disposition, and made any considerable progress
in literature. But, alas ! they were an idle pack, who knew but little, and took
no pains to increase their knowledge. When therefore, according to my dis-
position, which was ambitious to excel, I applied myself close to books, and began
to look forward into the next year's exercises, this unhappy pair greatly discou-
raged me, and beat me off from my studies, so that by their persuasions I foolishly
threw by my books, and soon became as idle as they were. Oh ! how baneful is
it to be linked with bad company ! and what a vile heart had I to hearken to their
wretched persuasions ! I never, after this, r«covered a good studious disposition,
while I was at college. Having a ready, quick memory, which rendered the
common exercises of the college easy to me, and being an active youth, I was
hurried almost continually into one diversion or another, and gave myself to no
particular studies, and therefore made no great proficiency in any part of solid
learning. *»«»***•♦«*»

In July, 1700, 1 took my first degree. Dr. Increase Mather being President;
after which I returned to my honored father's house, where I betook myself to
close studying, and humbling myself before God with fasting and prayer, implor-
ing the pardon of all my sins, through the mediation of Christ ; begging the
divine Spirit to sanctify me throughout, in spirit, soul, and body, and fit me for,
and use me in the service of the sanctuary, and direct and bless all my studies to
that end. I joined to the North Church in Boston, under the pastoral care of
the two Mathers. Some time in November, 17(*2, I was visited with a fever and
sore throat, but through the mercy of God to a poor sinful creature, in a few days
I recovered a good state of health ; and from that time to this, November, 1766,
I have never had any sickness that has confined me to my bed.

While I continued at my good father's I prosecuted my studies; and looked
something into the mathematics, though I gained but little ; our advantages there-
for being noways equal to what they have, who now have the great Sir Isaac
Newton, and Dr. Halley, and some other mathematicians, for their guides. About
this time I made a visit to the college, as I generally did once or twice a year,
where I remember the conversation turning upon the mathematics, one of the
company, who w^as a considerable proficient in them, observing my ignorance,
said to me he would give me a question, which if I answered in a month's close
application, he should account me an apt scholar. He gave me the question. I,
who was ashamed of the reproach cast upon me, set myself hard to work, and in
a fortnight's time returned him a solution of the question, both by trigonometry
and geometry, with a canon by which to resolve all questions of the like nature.
When I showed it to him, he was surprised, said it was right, and owned he
knew no way of resolving it but by algebra, which I was an utterly stranger
to. I also gave myself to the study of the Biblical Hebrew, turned the Lord's
prayer, the creed, and part of the Assembly's Catechism into Hebrew, (for which
I had Dr. Cotton Mather for my corrector,) and entered on the task of finding
the radix of every Hebrew word in the Bible, with designs to form a Hebrew
Concordance ; but when I had proceeded through a few chapters in Genesis, I found
the work was done to my hand by one of the Buxtorfs, So I laid it by. * *

About two months before I took my second degree, the reverend and deserv-
edly famous Mr. Samuel Willard, then Vice-President, called upon me, (though
I lived in Boston,) to give a common-place in the college liall ; which I did, the

26 EZEKIEL CJIEEVER.

Jattcr end of June, from 2. Peter, i. 20, 21, endeavoring to prove the divine inspi-
ration and authority of the holy Scriptures. When I had concluded, the President
was so good as to say openly in the hall, ' Bene fecisti, Barnarde, et gratias ago
tibi.^ Under him I took my second degree in July, 1703."

In Turrell's " Life and Character of Rev. Benjamin Colnian, D. D.,
late pastor of a church in Boston, New England, who deceased
August 29, 1747," and published in 1749, there is the following
sketch of the school life of this eminent divine.

" He was of a tender constitution from his birth, and very backward in his speech
and reading till he arrived to the age o^ five years; when, at once, he grew for-
ward in both, and entered (in 1678) young and small into the Grammar School
under the tuition of the venerable and learned Mr. Ezckiel Cheever. His
sprightly genius and advances in learning were soon (with pleasure) observed by
his preceptor, insomuch, that, in his first and second years, he was several times
called upon by him to reprove and shame some dull boys of upper forms, when
they grosly failed in their catechism and some low exercises, lie was tired with
a laudable ambition of excelling at his book, and a fear of being outdone. By his
indu>;try at home, he always kept foremost, or equal to the best of the form at
school ; and, a great advantage he liad (which, at that time, gave him no little (pain
in the promptness, diligence, and brightness of his intimate companion, Prout, who
used to spend his hours out of school, generally, in studies with liim, the two or
three last years of his life; and, their preceptor used, openly, to compare their
exercises, and, sometimes, declare he knew not which were best, and, bid Colman
take heed, for, the first time he was outdone, Prout should have his placet But,
aUxsI a violent fever seized the lovely, shining, ambitious boy, and suildenly carried
him to an higher form, to the great grief as well as hurt of Colman, who was
now left vi'ithout a rival, and, so without a spur to daily care and labour. How-
ever, he followed his studies so well that he was qualified for an admission into
Harvard College in the year 1 688.

His early piety was equal to his learning. His pious Mother (as he records it,
to her eternal honour), like LemueVs, travailed in pain through his infancy and
childhood for the new birth; and, to her instructions and corrections addid her
commands and admonitions respecting every thing that was relif^ious and holy ;
and. in a particular manner, about the duty of praying to God in secret, and, also,
caused him and her other children to retire and pray togeiher, and for one an
other on the lord's Days at noon.

While a school-boy for a course of years, he and some of his companions, by
their own propt)sal to each other, under the encouragement of their parents, and,
with the consent of their preceptor, used to spend a part of Saturdays in the after-
noon in prayer together at the house of Mr. Colman, wl^ch continued until their
leaving the school and going to college : Mather, Baker, Prout, Pool, Townsend
were of tliis number ; and, for the most part, behaved decently and seriously in
these early exercises of piety and devotion.

After his admission into college, he grew in piety and learning, and in favor
witli God and man. He performed all his exercises to good acceptance ; many of
them had the applauses of his learned tutor, Mr, John Leverett. He was much
animated to the study of the liberal sciences, and to make the utmost improve-
ment in them from the shining example of the excellent Pemherton, who was a
year before him in standing. To be next to him seems to bound his ambition
until he pas.sed his degrees of Batehelor and Master of Arts, which he did in the
years 1692 and 95, under the Presidentship of the memorable \)v. Increase
Mather. When he pronounced the public Oration, on taking his Master's De-
gree, his thin and slender appearance, his soft and delicate voice, and the red
spots in his elieeks, caused the audience in general to conclude him bordering on
a consumption, and to be designed but for a few weeks of life.

From the bright but brief career of young Prout, and from the
"red spots" on the cheeks of the gifted Colman, we fear that Mr.
Cheever did not always temper the undue ardor of his pupils.

EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

27

Of Mr. Cheever's discipline, we may rorm some notion from the
testimony of his pupils. The following lines from Coote's "English
Schoolmaster," a famous manual* of that day in England, may have
been the substance of his " school code."

THE SCHOOLMASTER TO HIS SCHOLARS.

My child and scholar take good heed
unto the words that here are set,
And see thou do accordingly,
or else be sure thou shalt be beat.

First, I command thee God to serve,
then, to thy parents, duty yiehl ;

Unto all men be courteous,
and mannerly, in town and field.

Your cloafhs unbuttoned do not use,
let not your hose ungartered be ;

Have handkerchief in readiness,
Wash hands and face, or see not me.

If broken-hos'd or shoe'd you go,

or slovenly in your array,
Without a girdle, or untrust,

then you and I must have a fray.

If that thou cry, or talk aloud,

or books do rend, or strike with knife ;
Or laugh, or play unlawfully,

then you and I must be at strife.

If that you curse, miscall, or swear,
if that you pick, filch, steal, or lye ;

If you forget a scholar's part,
then must you sure your points uutye.

If that to school you do not go,
when time doth call you to the same ;

Or, if you loiter in the streets,
when we do meet, then look for blame.

Lose not your books, ink-horns, or pens,

nor girdle, garters, hat or band.
Let shooes be tyed, pin shirt-band close,

keep well your hands at any hand.

Wherefore, my child, behave thyself,

so decently, in all assays,
That thou may'st purchase parents love,

and eke obtain thy master's praise."

Although he was doubtless a strict disciplinarian, it is evident, from
the affectionate manner in which his pupils, Mather, Barnard, and
Colman speak of him, and the traditionary reputation which has de-
scended with his name, that his venerable presence was accompanied
by " an agreeable mixture of majesty and sweetness, both in his voice
and countenance," and that he secured at once obedience, reverence,
and love.

* The following is the titl^-page of this once famous school-book, printed from a copy of
the fortieth edition, presented to the author of this sketch, by George Livermore, Esq., of
Cambridge, Mass.

" THE

ENGLISH

S C H 0 0 L-MA S TE R,

Teaching all his Scholars, of what age so ever, the mo.st easy, short, and perfect order of
distinct Reading, and true Writing our English-tongue, that hath
ever yet been known or published by any.
And further also, teacheth a direct course, how many unskilful per.son may easily both under-
stand any hard English words, which they shall in Scriptures, Sermons, or else-where hear
or read ; and also be made able to use the same aptly themselves ; and generally Avhatsoever
is necessary to be known for the English speech : so that he which hath this book only need-
eth to buy no other to make him fit from his Letters to the Grammar- School, for au
Apprentice, or any other private use, so far as concernefh English : And
therefore it is made not only for Children, though the first book
be meer childish for them, but also for all other ; especially
, for those that are ignorant in the Latin Tongue.
In the next Page the School- Master hangeth forth his Table to the view ol all beholders, set-
ting forth some of the chief Commodities of his profession.
Devised for thy sake that wantest any part of this skill ; by Edicard Coote, Master of the Free-
school in Saint Edmund' s- Bury .
Perused and approved by puhlick Authority; and vow the 40 time Imprinted: with certain
Copies to write by, at the end of this Book, added.
Printed by A. M. and R. R. for the Company of Stationers, IGSO

28 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

Of the text- books used by Mr. Cheever, — to what extent the New
England Primer had superseded the Royal Prhiier of Great Britain,
— whether James Ilodder encountered as sharp a competition as any
of the Arithmeticians of this day, — whether Lawrence Eachard, or
G. Meriton, gave aid in the study of Geography at that early day, we
shall not speak in this place, except of one of which he was author.*

During his residence at New Haven he composed The Accidence,
"A short introduction to the Latin Tongue^ which, prior to 1790,
had passed through twenty editions, and was for more than a century
the hand-book of most of the Latin scholars of New England. We
have before us a copy of the 20th edition, with the following title
page:

"a short
INTRODUCTION

TO THE

LATIN LANGUAGE:

For the Use of llie

Lower Furms in the Latin School.

Being the

ACCJDENCE,

Abridged and compiled in that most easy and accurate Method, wherein the flimons Mr.

EzEKiEL Cheevbr taught, and which he found the most advantageous, by Seventy Year's

Experience.

To which is added,

A Catalogue of Irregular Nouns, and Verbs, disposed Alphabetically.

The Twentieth Edition.

S A L E M :

Printed and Sold by Samuel Hall, mdcclxxxv."

This little book embodies Mr. Cheever's method of teaching the
rudiments of the Latin language, and was doubtless suggested or
abridged from some larger manual used in the schools of London at
the time, with alterations suggested by his own scholarly attainments,
and his experience as a teacher. It has been much admired by good
judges for its clear, logical, and comprehensive exhibition of the first
principles and leading inflexions of the language. The Rev. Samuel
Bentley, D. D., of Salem, (born 1758, and die4 1819), a great anti-
quarian and collector of school-books, in some "Notes for an Address
on Education," after speaking of Mr. Cheever's labors at Ipswich as
mainly instrumental in placing that town, " in literature and popula-
tion, above all the towns of Essex County," remarks : —

" His Accidence wns the wonder of the age, and though, as his biographer
and pupil, Dr. Cotton Mather, observed, it had not excluded the original grammar,
it passed through eighteen editions before tlie Revolution, and had been used as
generally as any elementary work ever known. The familiar epistles of thia
master to his son, minister of Marblehead, are all worthy of the age of Erasmus,
and of the days of Ascham.

" Before Mr. Cheever's Accidence obtained, Mr. John Brinsley's method had
obtained, and this was published in 1611, three years before Cheever was born
It is in question and answer, and was undoubtedly known to Cheever, who has
availed himself of the expression, but has most ingeniously reduced it to the form

* Unless some one, with more abundant material in hand, will undertake the task, we shall
prepare ere long a Paper on the Early School Books of this country, published prior to 1800,
with an approximation, at least, to the number issued since that date.

EZEKIEL CIIEEVER. 29

of his Acciflenco, — 134 small 4to pages to 79 small 12mo., with the adilition of
an excelKnt Table of Irregular Verbs from the great work of the days of Roger
Ascham."*

We have not been able to obtain an earlier edition of this little
work than the one above quoted, or to ascertain when, or by whom,
it was first printed.} An edition was published so late as 1838, under
the title of Cheever's Latin Accidence, with an announcement on
the title-page that it was " used in the schools of this country for
more than a hundred and fifty years previous to the close of the last
century." This edition is accompanied by letters from several eminent
scholars and teachers highly commendatory of its many excellencies,
and hopeful of its restoration to its former place in the schools.
President Quincy, of Harvard College, says : " It is distinguished for
simplicity, comprehensiveness, and exactness ; and, as a primer or first
elementary book, I do not believe it is exceeded by any other work,
in respect to those important qualities." Samuel Walker, an eminent
instructor of the Latin language, adds : "The Latin Accidence, which
was the favorite little book of our youthful days, has probably done
more to inspire young minds with the love of the study of the Latin
language than any other work of the kind since the first settlement
of the country. I have had it in constant use for my pupils, when-
ever it could be obtained, for more than fifty years, and have found it
to be the best book, for beginners in the study of Latin, that has come
within my knowledge."

* Mr .lohn Brinsley, author of the Latin Accidence referred to, was the author of a little
work on English Grammar, printed in 1622, with the following title: —

CONSOLA TION

For Out grammar

SCilOOLES;

OR,

Afaithfid and most comfortable incouragement for laying of a sure foundation of a good

Learning in oift Schooles, and for prosperous building thereupon.
More Specially for all those of the inferior sort, and all ruder countries and places ; namely,
for Ireland, Wales, Virginia, with the Sommer Islands, and for their more speedie at-
taining of our English tonsue by the same labour, that all may speake one
and the same Language. And withall, for the helping of all such
as are desirous speedlie to recover that which they
had formerlie got in the Grammar Schooles :
and to proceed aright therein, for the
perpetuall benefit of these
our Nations, and of
the Churches
of Christ.
London :
Printed by Richard Field for Thomas Man. dwelling in Paternoster Row, at the Sign of
the ralcot, 1622; small ito.
Epistle, dedicatory, and table of contents, pp. 1 c84 and Examiner's Censure, pp. 2.
This rare treatise is in the Library of George Brinley, Esq., of Hartford, Conn,
t Since the above paragraph was in type, we have seen four other editions of the Accidence
the earliest of wJiich is the seventh, printed in Boston, by B. Edes & S. Gill, for I. Edwards
& I. and T. Leverett, in Cornhill, MDCCIV. For an opportunity of consulting these editions
an original edition of Dr. Cotton Mather's Funeral Sermon on the occasion of Chee-
ver's death, and several other authorities referred to in this sketch, we are indebted to George
Brinley, Esq., of Hartford, who has one of the largest and choicest collection of books and
pamphlets, printed in New England, or relating to its affairs, civil and ecclesiastical,— state,
town, church, and individual, to be found in the country.

30

EZEKIEL CflEEVER.

Mr. Cheever was also the author of a small treatise of thirty-two
pages, of which, the only copy we have seen [in Harvard University
Library] was published forty-nine years after his death, and entitled —

*' Scripture Prophecies Explained

IN THREE SHORT

ESSAYS.

I. On the Restitution of all things,

II. On St. John's first Resurrection,

III. On the persondl coming of Jesus Christ,

As commencing at the beginning of tlie MILLENNIUM, described in the Apocalypse.

By EzEKiEL Cheever,

In former days Master of the Grammar School in Boston.

' We have a more sure word of Prophecy, whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, &c.'

BOSTON,

Printed and sold by Green & Russell, at their Printing Office, in Queen-street. WDCCLVII."

The author concludes his last Essay as follows : —
" Lastly. To conclude, this personal corning of Christ at or before the begin-
ning of the thousand years, is no other but the second coming of Christ, and
great day of judgment, which the Scripture speaks of, and all Christians believe,
and wait for, only there are several works to be performed in the several parts of
this great day. The first works, in the first part or beginning of this day, is to
raise the Saints ; destroy his enemies with temporal destruction ; to set up his
kingdom ; to rule and reign on the earth, with his raised and then living Saints,
a thousand years ; after that, in the latter part of the day, to destroy Gog and
Magog: To enter upon the last general judgment, raising the wicked, judging
them according to their works, and casting them into the lake of fire, which is
the second death. All this, from first to last, is but one day of judgment ; that
great and terrible day of the Lord, and is but one coming, which is his second,
as we plead for. After this, the work being finished, Christ will deliver up his
mediatory kingdom to his Father, and, himself, become a subject, that GOD may
be all in all. With this interpretation, all the Scriptures alleged, and many
more, will better agree and harmonize in a clear and fair way, not crossing any
ordinary rules given of interpreting Scripture than in restraining Christ's personal
coming to the work and time of the last judgment. And, though many of these
Scriptures may have a spiritual meaning, and, may be already in part fulfilled,
which I deny not, yet that will not hinder, but that they may have a literal sense
also."

Of Mr. Cheever's personal history, after he removed to Boston, we
have been successful in gathering but few particulars not already
published. From a petition addressed by him to Sir Edmund An-
dross, in 1687, some seventeen years after he removed to Boston, it
appears, that he was then in prime working order as a teacher —
still enjoying his "wonted abilities of mind, health of body, vivacity
of spirit, and delight in his work." The following is the petition
copied from the Hutchinson Papers in the Massachusetts Historical
Society and printed by Mr. Gould :

" To His Excellency, Sir Edmund Andross, Knight, Governor and Captain
General of His Majesty^s territories and dominions in New England.
" The humble petition of Ezekiel Cheever of Boston, schoolmaster, sheweth
that your poor petitioner hath near fifty years been employed in the work and
office of a public Grammar-schoolmaster in several places in this country. With
what acceptance and success, I submit to the judgment of those that are able to
testify. Now seeing that God is pleased mercifully yet to continue my wonted
abilities of mind, health of body, vivacity of spirit, delight in my work, which alone
I am any way fit and capable of, and whereby I have my outward subsistence, —
I most humbly entreat your Excellency, that according to your former kindness

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. g\

BO often manifested, I may by your Excellency's favor, allowance and encourage- ^
ment, still be continued in my jn-esent place. And whereas there is due to mo
about fifty-live pounds for my labors past, and the former way of that part of my
maintenance is thought good to be altered, — I with all submission beseech your
Excellency, that you would be pleased to give order for my due satisfjiction, the
want of which would fall heavy upon me in my old age, and my children also
who are otherwise poor enough. And your poor petitioner shall ever pray, &c.
Your Excellency's most humble servant,

EZEKIEL ChEEVER."

He died,* according to Dr. Mather, " on Saturday morning, August
21, 1708 — in the ninety-fourth year of his age ; after he had been a
skillful, painful, faithful schoolmaster for seventy years, and had the
singular favor of Heaven, that though he had usefully spent his life
among children, yet he was not become twice a child, but held his
abilities, in an unusual degree, to the very last," — " his intellectual
force as little abated as his natural." It was his singular good fortune
to have lived as an equal among the very founders of New England,
with them of Boston, and Salem, and New Haven, — to have taught
their children, and their children's children, unto the third and fourth
Cjeneration — and to have lingered in the recollections of his pupils
and their children, the model and monument, the survivor and
representative of the Puritan and Pilgrim stock, 4own almost to the
beginning of the present century.

President Stiles of Yale College, in his Literary Diary, 25th April
17*72, mentions seeing the "Rev. and aged Mr. Samuel Maxwell, of
Warren," R. L, in whom " I have seen a man who had been ac-
quainted with one of the original and first settlers of New England,
now a rarity ."t "He told me he well knew the famous Grammar
schoolmaster, Mr. E. Cheever of Boston, author of the Accidence ;
that he wore a long white beard, terminating in a point; that when
he stroked his beard to the point, it was a sign for the boys to stand
clear." In another entry, made on the l7th of July 1774, Dr. Stiles,
after noting down several dates in the life of Mr. Cheever, adds, " I
have seen those who knew the venerable saint, particularly the Rev.
John Barnard, of Marblehead, who was fitted for college by him, and
entered 1698." Rev. Dr. Mather, in 1708, speaks of him not only as
his master, seven and thirty years ago, but, also, " as master to my
betters, no less than seventy years ago ; so long ago, that I must even
mention ray father's tutor for one of them."

* " Venerable," says Governor Hutchinson, in his History of Massachusetts, (Vol. H., page
175, Note), " not merely for his great age, 9-1, but for having been the schoolmaster of most
of the principal gentlemen in Boston, who were then upon the stage. He is not the only
master who kept his lamp longer lighted than otherwise it would have been by a supply of
oil from his scholars."

t There is now living in Bangor, Maine, " Father Sawyer," who was born in Hebron, Conn.,
in Nov., 1755, and who has preached the gospel for 70 years. He knew Rev. John Barnard,
of Marblehead, a pupil of Mr. Cheever. These three persons connect the present with the
first generation of New England.

32 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

He was buried, according to an entry of Judge Sewall in his
manuscript Diary,* under date of August 23, "from the school-liouse.
The Governor, Councillorsj Ministers, Justices, Gentlemen being there.
Mr. AVilliams (his successor in the school) made a handsome oration
in his honor."

* We are indebted to Rev. Samuel Sewall of Burlington, Mass., for the following transcript
from the manuscript Diary of Judge Sewall :

"Feria septima. August 21st (1708). Mr. Edward Oakes tells me, Mr. Chiever died this
Jast night. N. He was born January 25th 1614. Came over to New England 1637, to Boston,
land to New Haven ir)38. Married in the Fall, and began to teach School, which work he was
constant in till now: first at New Haven; then at Ipswich ; then at Charlestown; then at
Boston, wither he came in 1673 ; so that he has labored in that calling skillfully, diligently,
constantly, religiously, seventy years— a rare instance of Piety, Health, Strength, and Service,
ableness. The welfare of the Province was much upon his spirit. He abominated Periwigs."

The Rev. Mr Sewall, in communicating the above transcript, adds the following remarks
by the way of postscript. '• Though Judge Sewall wrote the Sentence underscored last, yet
it was not as what he conceived to be the climax of the characteristic excellence he had
ascribed to good Master Cheever, but as a fact which happened to come into his mind as he
was writing, and which he regarded as a recommendation of Mr. Cheever. In his prejudice
against Periwigs, he was not singular. Such men as Rev. John Eliot was alike opposed to
them ; and Rev. Solomon Stoddard of Northampton wrote against them."

The assault of " the learned and reverend Mr. Stoddard," of Northampton, on Periwigs,
was in a letter addressed to a distinguished citizen, no other than Chief Justice Sewall, and
published at Boston, with other matters, in a pamphlet, in 1722, entitled ".4n answer to some
cases of Conscience respecting the Country." After disposing of some grave questions
touching the oppression of the poor and ignorant by the knowing and crafty, in selUng at an
exorbitant profit, in depreciating the currency of the country, in taking advantage of the
necessities of a man in debt, the author passes to the consideration of the lawfulness in the
light of scripture, of men wearing their hair long, or of cutting it off entirely, for the pur-
pose of substituting the hair of other persons, and even of horses and goats. "Although I
cannot condemn them universally, yet, in wearing them, there is abundance of sin. First,
when men do wear them, needlessly, in compliance with the fashion. Secondly, when they
do wear them in such a ruffianly way as it would be utterly unlawful to wear their own hair
In. Some of the wigs are of unreasonable length ; and, generally, they are extravagant as to
their bushiness." He not only condemns the wig because it is ''wasteful as to cost, but. be-
cause it is contrary to gravity." "It makes the wearers of them look as if they were more
disposed to court a maid than to bear upon their hearts the weighty concernments of God's
kingdom."

But, Mr. Stoddard and Mr. Cheever were not alone in their abhorence of wearing peri-
wigs. The Apostle Eliot, talked, prayed, and preached for its suppression. The legislative
authorities of Massachusetts denounced " the practice of mens wearing their own or other's
hair made into periwigs." It was made a test of godliness and church-membership. In
iipite of the authority given to the custom by William Penn, who, according to his biographer,
" had four wigs with him, which cost him twenty pounds," the Friends, in their monthly
session, at Hampton, in 1721, made this decision : " It was concluded by this meeting that the
wearing of extravagant, superfluous wigs is altogether contrary to truth." In the second
church of Newbury, in 1752, one Richard Bartlett was " dealt with " : First, our said brother
refuses communion with the church for no other reason, but because the pastor wears a wig,
and because the church justifies him in it ; setting up his own opinion in opposition to the
church, contrary to that humility which becomes a Christian. Second, and farther, in an
unchristian manner, he censures and condemns both pastor and church as anti-Christian on
the aforesaid account, and he sticks not, from time to time, to assert, with the greatest assur-
ance, that all who wear wigs unless they repent of that particular sin, before they die, will
certainly be damned, which we judge to be a piece of uncharitable and sinful rashness."
This custom prevailed in England and France, as well as in this country, and there, as well
08 here, provoked the attacks of the pulpit and the satirist, but gradually disappeared, or gave
place to other fashions of the toilet, if not quite so monstrous, full as expensive and as absurd.
•' There is no accounting for taste." See Felt's Customs of New England.

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. 33

Rev. Dr. Cotton Mather " imiDroved tlie occasion" of the death of this
" faithful, successful, venerable, and beloved teacher," by preaching a
Funeral Sermon, in which he set forth in his own peculiar pedantic
manner and style, the duty of towns and parents to provide schools,
employ, pay, and honor competent teachers, and look diligently after
the good education of children. This sermon, which the author pro-
nounces A doiiig of Justice, was printed with the following title page.

Corderius Americanus.

AN EvSSAY

UPON

The Good EDUCATION of CHILDREN.
And what may Hopefully be Attempted, for the Hope of the FL OCR.

FUNERAL SERMON

UPON

MR. EZEKIEL CHEEVER

The Jtncient and Honourable MASTER of the FREE-SCHOOL in Boston.

Who left olf, but when Mortality took him oft", in August, 1708,

the Ninety Fourth Year of his Age.

With an ELEGY and EPITAPH upon him.

By one that was once a. Scholar to him.

Vaster [CHEEVERUS,] cu7u sic nioritur, nan moritur

BOSTON, Printed by John Allen, for Nicholas Boone, at the Sign of the Bible in
Cornhill, near the Corner of School-street. 1708,

From this pamphlet, now rarely to be met with even in the col-
lections of antiquarians and Historical Societies, we proceed to give
some extracts, both for the light they throw on the character and ser-
vices of Ezekiel Cheever, and for the substantial a^d wholesome doc-
trine, which is as good now as it was a hundred and fifty years ago,
when it was uttered by Dr. Mather. His motives for publishing the Ser-
mon and Essay, are thus set forth in the " Historical Introduction" :

" DUTY to the Merit and Memory of my Departed MASTER, is now in its
Operation. The Fifth Commandment well considered will demand such a Duty.
When Quirinus made a Marble Monument for his Master, there was this Effect
of it, Invisunt Locum Studiosi Juvenes frequenter, ut hoc Exemplo Edocti^
quantum Discipuli ipsi prtBceptorihus fuis debeant, perpetuo meminisse velint.
Scholars that saw it, Learnt from the Sight what Acknowledgments were due
from Scholars to their Masters. I with my little feeble Essay for Mine, may in any
measure animate the Gratitude of any Scholars to their Well-deserving Tutors.

A due C.u-e about a Funeral for the Dead, among the Jews had that Phrase
for it; A Bestowing of Mercy. But the* Sermon which I have Employed on
the Funeral of my Master, must be called ; A Doing of Justice. And I am
very much misinformed, if this were not the General Voice of all the Auditory.

After apologizing for the imperfection of his work, and giving the
principal incidents in the life of Cheever, he concludes the Intro-
duction as follows :

" It is a Common Adage in the Schools of the Jews ; A just man never dies,
till there be born in his room, one that is like him. So Grown a Town as
33ofiton, is capable of honourably Supporting more than one Grammar-School.
And it were to be wished, That several as able as our CHEEVER, might arise
in his room, to carry on an Excellent Education in them. Our Glorious LORD
can make such inen. But, Oh 1 That SCHOOLS were more Encouraged,
throughout the Country !

I remember, the Jewish Masters have a Dispute about the Reasons of the
Destruction of Jerusalem. And among the rest the Judgment of R. Menona,
was; It had not been destroyed, but for their not minding to bring up their
Children in the School. Verily, There cannot be a more Threatning Symptom
of Destruction upon us, than there would be in this thing ; If we should fall
mto the Folly of Not Minding to bring up our Children in the School.

C

S4 ' EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

" The Pastors of the Churches must more bestir themselves. O Men of God,
Awake ; And let the Cares of our ELIOT* for his Roxbury,i be a pattern for you !"

The doctrine of the Discourse \^Tkat saving wisdom is to be fetched
from the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures^ and that the early knowl-
edge of the Holy Scriptures^ is the way to be betimes made wise unto
salvation,] is drawn from 2. Timothy, iii chapter, and 15th verse —
From a child thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, ivhich are able to
make thee wise unto salvation. The preacher enlarges on the " inex-
pressible consequence" of the right education of children. "Unworthy

* Dr. Mather, in the Magnalia, in his Life of Eliot, speaking of "his cares about the chil-
dren of his people," remarks : " I have cause to remember with what an hearty, fervent, zeal-
ous application, he addressed himself, when, in the name of the neighbour, pastors, and
churches, he gave me the right hand of their fellowship , at my ordination^ and said, Brother,
art thou a lover of the Lord Jesus Christ 7 Then, I pray, feed his lambs," Besides his la-
bours direct and abundant for the catechetical and direct religious instruction of children by
himself, as their pastor, and, through their parents, " he showed his regard for the welfare of
the poor children under his charge by his perpetual resolution and activity to support a good
school in the town that belonged unto him. A grammar- scAooZ he would always have upon
the place, whatever i*. cost him ; and, he importuned all other places to have the like. I can-
not forget the ardour with which 1 once heard him pray, in a synod of these churches, which
met at Boston, to consider how the miscarriages which were among us might be prevented ; I
say, with what fervour he uttered an expres.sion to this purpose. Lord, for schools everywhere
among us! That our schools may flourish ! That every member of this assembly may go
home and procure a. good^chool to be encouraged in the town where he lives ! That, before we
die, we may be so happy as to see a good school encouraged in every plantation of the country.
God so blessed his endeavours that Roxbury could not live quietly without a free school in the
town ; and the issue of it has been one thing which has made me almost put the title of (ScAo/a
Ulustris upon that little nursery ; that is, that Roxbury has afforded more scholars, fn-st for
the colledge, and then for the publick, than any town of its bigness, or, if I mistake not, of
twice its bigness, in all New-England. From the spring of tiie school at Roxbury, there have
run a large niimber of the streams which hare made glad this whole city of God. I perswade
my self that the good people of Roxbury will for ever scorn to begrutch the cost, or to permit
the death of a school which God has made such an honour to them ; and. this the rather be-
cause their deceased Eliot has left them a fair part of liis own estate, for the maintaining of
the school in Roxbury; and, I hope, or, at least, I wish, that the ministers of New-England
may be as ungainsayably importunate with their people as Mr. Eliot was with his, for schools
which may seasonably tinge the young souls of the rising generation. A want of education
for them is the blackest and saddest of all the bad omens that are upon us."

• Under the lead of the Rev. John Eliot, sundry inhabitants of Roxbury, in 1645, only fifteen
years after the first settlement of the town, bound themselves and their estates for ever for
the payment of a certain sum yearly for the'support of a Free School. In 1669, Mr. Thomas
Bill bequeathed a large estate, in Roxbury, to Mr. John Eliot, " in trust for the maintenance
of a school-master and a Free School, for the teaching and instructing of poor men's chil'
drcn." From these beginnings grew up the " Grammar School in the Easterly Part of Rox-
bury," whose interesting history has been written by Richard G. Parker. This school
numbers among its early teachers several men who afterwards became eminent among the
divines, lawyers, and statesmen of the country. Among them we find, in 1760, the name ol
Joseph Warren, who, in 1776, went up on Bunker Hill, to die for his country. In 1716, in a
Preamble to an order relating to this school, in the House of Representatives, it is set forth
"that the said Free School is one of the most ancient famous schools in the Province, where
by the favor ol God more persons have had their education, who have been and now are
worthy Ministers to the everlasting Gospel than in any town of the like bigness." In 1674,
the Ffeoffees covenant with John Prudden to keep the school, in which said Prudden on his
part engages " to use his best endeavors, both by precept and example, to instruct in all
Rcholasticall, morall, and theologicall discipline," and the Ffeoffees, on theirs, to allow him in
jecompence for teaching their children [he being at liberty to receive other scholars on pay],
twenty-five pounds, " to be paid three quarters in Indian Corn or peas, and the other fourth
part in barley, and good and merchantable, at price current in the country rate." In fitting
up the school with " benches and formes, with tables for the Schollars to rite," in 1652, "a
desk to put the Dictionary on " was provided for.

EZEKIEL CIIEEVER. S5

to be parents, most worthy to be esteemed rather monsters than
parents are they, who are not solicitous to give their children an
agreeable and religious education." That children may " learn to
read the Holy Scriptures ; and this as early as may be," he exclaims
energetically, in capitals and italics — "to school therefore with
them ! Let them not be loitering at home, or playing abroad, when
they should be at school. Be more concerned for their schooling
than for their cloathing. If there be any, as I suppose there cannot
be many so necessitous, as to call for it, let us in this town go on with
our Charity School." In reply to inquiry who it is that is to teach
the children — " Come all hands to the work !" " The Pastors must
not neglect the children of the flock. The charge of our Lord unto
them is — Feed my Lambs. It is thrice proposed as if it were at least
one third part of the pastoral charge." Is there not a disposition
in our day to throw this whole charge upon teachers ?

" The MASTER and MISTRESS, in the SCHOOL, may do much in this
Noble Work. We read. The Little Ones have their Angels. Truly, to Teach
the Little Ones, the Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, and make them Wise
unto Salvation, it is a stately work ^ I had almost call'd it; A Work for Angels.
It is an Hard Work to keep a School ; and hardly ever duly Recompensed. I
suppose, It is easier to be at the Plough all day, than in the School. Ijut it is a
Good Work : It is Gods Plough ; and God speed it I I would not have you
weary of it. Melchior Adam did well to call it, Molestissimam, sed Deo longe
gratissimam Functionem ; A work, tho' very Tiresome, and Troublesome to the
Flesh, yet most highly Acceptable to God. Go on with it Chearfully ; And
often Teach the Children something of the Holy Scriptures ; often drop some
Honey out of that Rock upon them. Who can tell, but you may Teach them
the Tilings that shall save their Souls, and they shall bless God for you and with
you, throughout Eternal Ages ? Every time a New Child comes to the School,
Oh ! why should you not think ! Here my glorious LORD sends me another
Object, on which I may do some thing., to advance His Kingdom in the World !

But; Lastly, and. yet First of all, O PARENTS Arise ; This matter chiefly
belongs unto you ; we also will be with you. None, I say, None, are so much
concerned, as Parents to look after it, that their Children be taught the Knowl-
edge of the Holy Scriptures. Our famous King Elfred, procured a Law, That
every man who had but as much as Two Hides of Land, should bring up his
Children to Learning, till Fifteen Years of Age at least ; that so they might
Know Christ, and Live Happily ; Else, he said. They were but Beasts and
Sots. T am to press it, That Parents give their Children all the Learning they
can ; especially that which will bring them to Know Christ, and Live Happily.'^

After addressing himself particularly to the children and teachers

of his auditory, he concludes his discourse by the following " lengthy '*

but " reasonable corollary : "

" Worthy of Honour are the TEACHERS that Convey Wisdom unto our Chil-
dren ; Worthy of Double Honour the Happy Instruments that Convey Saving
Wisdom to them ! There are some whose peculiar Profession it is, to assist the
Education of our Children ; and it is therefore their Endeavour to give them a
Religious Education. Their Employment is to bestow Useful and Various
Learning on our Children ; but they make their Employment, a precious Ad-
vantage to Learn them the Holy Scriptures, and make them Wise for Eternity.

These our SCHOOL-MASTERS, deserve a great Encouragement. We are
not Wise for our Children, if we do not greatly Encourage them.

The PARTICULAR PERSONS, who have their Children, in the Tutelage
of Skilful and Careful School-Masters, ought to make them suitable Recom-
pences. Their Stipends are generally far short of their Deserts. They deserve

36 EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.

Additional Compensations. Their pains are not small. What they Do is very
(rreat. And surely our Children are very dear to us 5 I need not quote Evri-
'pides to tell you, That they are as the very Life and Soul^ unto all Mankind. I
can't but observe it with a just Indignation; to Feed our Children, to Cloaih our
Children, To do any thing for the Bodies of our Children ; or perhaps to Teach
them some Trijle at a Dancing School, scarcely worth their Learning, we count
no Expenee too much ; At the same time to have the Minds of our Children
Enriched with the most valuable Knowledge, here, To what purpose ? is the
cry: a little Expenee, how heavily it goes oft'I My Brethren, These things ought
not so to be. Well-taught Children are certainly very much to be accounted of.
When the Mother of the Gracchi was ask'd for the sight of her Ornaments, how
instructively did she present her Two Sons brought up in Learning and Vertue,
as the brightest of all her Ornaments .' If we were duly sensible, how vast a
comfort it is, how vast a Concern, to have Well-taught Children, we should
study all the ways imaginable, to express our Thankfulness unto the Teachers
of them. And it will not be complain'd, That a Mecamas is to be no where found,
but in Horace's Poetry. The Christian Emperour Gratian, One of the Best
men, that ever Svvay'd the Roman Scepter, conferr'd Riches and Honours on his
Masier Ansonius, and he sent him that agreeable Compliment with them ; Sir,
I have paid tchat I Ow'd, and I still owe what J have paid. Language agree-
able to the Spii-it of Christianity ! Yes, a Zeno, that was a Stranger to it, yet
has this recorded in his Commendation, That he would give his Master as much
again as the wages he ask'd of him. I hope, he won't be the only One, that
shall have such a thing spoken of him !

And the more Liberal Provision the PUBLICK does make for Industrious,
Well-accomplished, Well-disposed School-masters, the more is the Publick Wis-
dom Testified & Propagated ! Ammifsnus Marcellinus, the Historian, tho' a
great Admirer of Julian & of Paganism, yet condemns his prohibition of
School-masters unto the Christians : Illud autem inclemens obruendum perenni
silentio, quod arcebat docere, Magistros Rheioricos et Grammaticos, Ritus
Christiani Cultores. But, Syrs, If you do not Encourage your School-masters,
you do a part of Julianism, and as bad as Prohibit them. Certainly, If some-
thing of Julianism did not prevail too much among us, (which among a People
of our Profession is highly scandalous,) we might ere now have seen, besides the
petty Schools of every Town, a Grammar- School at the Head Town of every
County, and an Able School-master with an ample Salary, the Shepherd in it ;
a Thing so often, so often unsuccessfully petition'd for ! We hear Good Words
now and then spoken for the Tribe of Levi. I desire, to speak one for the tribe
of SIMEOI^. The Simeonites were the School- masters that were Scattered
in Israel. I assure my self, That Ours, do watch against the Anger which is
fierce, and the Wrath which is cruel ; and that they use not Instruments of Cru-
elty in their Habitations ; but prudently study the Tempers of the Children,
they have to deal withal. Tho' Moses left them out of his Blessing ; [the Tribe
not having then done any thing since Jacobs dying Oracles, to signalize them.]
Yet our Glorious JESUS, has a Blessing for them. They Serve Him wonder-
fully. His People will also Bless them, and Bless God for them. And so will I
this Day do for MY MASTER, in this Congregation of the Lord.

SCHOOL-MASTERS that have Used the Office well, purchase to themselves,
a Good Esteem to Out-live their Death, as well as Merit for themselves a good
Support while they Live. 'Tis a Justice to them, that they should be fiad in Ever-
lasting Remembrance ; And a Place and a Narne among those Just men, does
particularly belong to that Ancient and Honourable INIan ; a Master in our
Israel; who was with us, the last Time of my Standing here; but is lately
Translated unto the Colledg» of Blessed Spirits, in the Mansions, where the
FIRST RESURRECTION is Waited and Longed for. Allow me the Expression ;
For I Learn't it of my Hebrew Masters, among whom, 'tis a phrase for the Death
of Learned and Worthy men, Requisiti sunt in Academiam Calestem.

Verrius the Master to the Nephews of Augustus, had a Statue Erected for
him; And Antonius obtained from the Senate, a Statue for his Master Fronto.
1 am sorry that Mine lias none. And Cato counted it more glorious than any
Statue, to have it asked. Why has he None ? But in the grateful memories of
his Scholars, there have been and will be Hundreds Erected for him.

Unuer him we Learnt an Oration, made by Tully, in praise of his own Master;
namely that. Pro Archia Poeta. A Pagan shall not out-do ms, in our Gratitude

EZEKIEL ClIEEVER. ^1

unto our Master. There was a fiimous Christian in tlie Primitive Times, who
wrote a whole Book, in praise of his Master i/iero//te«s; Eutiluling it, Tregi Tt,
(taxapiH le^odea Concerning the Blessed llierotheus. And if 1 now say a few
things. Concerning the Blessed ClIEEVER, no man wlio thinks well of gra-
titude, or likes well to see the Fifth Commandment observed, will censure it.

In the Imperial Law, we read, that Good Grammarians, having taught vvitli
diligence Twenty Years, were to have Special Honour conferr'd upon them. I
Challenge for MY MASTER, more than a Treble portion of that Special
Honour. But, Oh, Let it all pass thro' him, up to the Glorious LORD, who
made him to be what he was 1

His Eminent Abilities for the Work, which rendred him so long Useful in
his Generation, were universally acknowledged. The next edition of, Tran-
quillus de Claris Grammaticis, may well enough biing him into the Catalogue,
and acknowledge him a Master. He was not a Meer Grammarian; yet he
was a Pure One. And let no Envy Misconntrue it, if I say. It was noted, that
when Scholars came to be Admitted into the Colledge, the}' who came from the
Cheeverian Education, were generally the most unexceptionable. What
Exception shall be made. Let it fall ui)on him, that is now speaking of it.

He flourished so long in tliis Great Work, of bringing our Sons to be Men,
that it gave him an opportunity to send forth many Bezaleels and Aholiabs for
the Service of the Tabernacle ; and Men fitted for all Good Employments. He
that was viy Master, Seven and Thirty Years ago, was a Master to many of my
Betters, no less than Seventy Years ago ; so long ago, that I must even mention
my Fathers Tutor for one of them.

And as it is written for the Lasting Renown of the Corderius, whose Colloquies
he taught us ; That the Great CALVIN had been a Scholar to him ; So this our
AMERICAN Corderius had many Scholars that were a Crown unto him ; yea,
many that will be his Crown in the Presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his Com-
ing; yea, many that were got into the Heavenly World before him. And the
mention of the Heavenly World, leads me to that which I would principally take
notice of. His PIETY, I say. His PIETY 5 and his care to infuse Documents
of Piety into the Scholars of his Charge, that he might carry them with him to
the Heavenly World. When Aristotle set up a Monument for his Master Plato,
he inscribed upon it, this Testimony, HE WAS ONE WHOM ALL GOOD
MEN OUGHT TO IMITATE, AS WELL AS TO CELEBRATE. IMY
MASTER went thro' his Hard Work with so much Delight in it, as a work for
GOD and CHRIST, and His People: He so constantly Prayed with us every
Day, Catechised us every Week, and let fall such Holy Counsels upon us ; He
took so many Occasions, to make Speeches unto us, that should make us Afraid
of Sin, and of incurring the fearful Judgments of God by Sin ; That I do propose
him for Imitation.

Verily, If all School-masters would Watch for Souls, and wisely spread tlie
Nets of Salvation for the Souls of their Children, in the midst of all their Teach-
ing ; Or, if the wondrous Rules of Education, lately published and practised,
in that Wonder of the World, the School of Glaucha near Hall in the Lower
Saxony, were always attended : Who can tell, what Blessed Effects might be
seen, in very many Children made wise unto Salvation? Albertus, who from
his Great Learning had the Syrname of Magnus, desired of God some years
before he died. That he might forget all his other Learning, and be wholly
Swallow'd up in Religion. I would not propose unto you, My Masters, Tiiat
you should Forget all other Learning. By all means furnish the Children with
as much Learning as ever you can. But be not so Swallowed up with other
Learning, as to Forget Religion, & the Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures.
Look upon other things to be (as a Speech in Parliament once elegantly called
them,) only the Et C(£tera's, to Religion. Why should not a School-master be
to his Children, A School-master to bring them unto Christ ? This was the
Study of our CHEEVER, The famous Dr. Reynolds, in a Funeral Sermon on
an Excellent School-master, in the City of London, has a passage worthy to be
written in Letters of Gold. Says he, ' If Grammar- Schools have Holy and

* Learned men set over them, not only the Brains, but the Souls of the Children
' might be there Enriched, and the Work of Learning and of Conversion too, be

* Betimes wrought in them !'

I shall not presume to Dictate, upon this matter, or to Enquire, Why Casia-
lio's Dialosues, be not Look'd upon as one of the best School Books, for the Latin

38 EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

Tongue, in a]l the Wor];!? Or, Why for the Greek, there is no more Account
made of Posselius ? Or, indeed why (to express my self in the Terms of a
IModern Writer,) 'there should not be North-west Passage found, for the Attain-
' ing of the Latin Tongue; that instead of a Journey, which may be dispatch'd
' in a few Days, they tnay not wander like the Children of Israel, Forty Years in
'the Wilderness. And wliy they should so much converse with the Poets, at
' that Age, when they read them, with so much Difficulty, and so little Relish.'
But I will venture upon it, as neither a Tedious Parenthesis, nor a needless
Digression, to single out only Two passages of many this way which in my small
Heading I have met withal.

The first is this 5 I have seen this Experiment among others recorded of one
that had a Number of Little Folks under liis Charge.

' Moreover, lie made it his Custome, that in every Recitation, he would,
' from something ov other occurring in it, make an occasion, to let fall some
' Sentence, which had a Tendency to promote the Fear of God in their Hearts ;
' which thing fometimes did indeed put )»im to more than a little study \ but the
' Good P^ftect sufficiently Recompenced it.'

Another is this. A late AVriter ha's these words ; ' Many Children are
' sooner tjiught what Jupiter, Mars, & such Pagan Gods were, then what. Father ^
^ Son, and Spirit is. Augustine of old complain'd of this; of Learning in the
'Schools, Joves Adulteries ; and for giving an Account of such things, saith he,
' ob hoc bona spei puer appellabar. Luthor also complained. That our Schools
' were more Pagan than Christian. I refer the unsatisfied Reader, to Pasors
' Preface to his Lexicon. I knew an aged and famous School-master ; that after
'he had kept School about Fifty years, said, with a very sad countenance, Tliat it
'was a great Trouble to him, that he had spent so much time in Reading Pagan
' Authors to liis Scholars, and wisJi'd it were customary to read such a Book as
' Duports Verses upon Job, rather than Horner, and such Books. I pray God,
' put it in the Hearts of a Wise Parliament, to Purge our Schools; that instead of
' Learning vain Fictions, and Filthy Stories, they may be acquainted with the
' Word of God, and with J^ooks containing Grave Sayings, and things that may
'make thera truly Wise and Useful in the World.'

Ye h(fbe heard, what MY MASTER was, In the School. Sir Walter
Rawleign commends it as a piece of wisdom, to use great moderation when we
are treating men with Commendation. I will not forget the Rule, in carrying on
my Commendation of my Master. But I will say very much in a Little. Out
of the School, he was One, Antiqua Fide, priscie moribus ; A Christian of the
Old Fashion : An OLD NEW-ENGLISH CHRISTIAN ; And I may tell you,
That was as Venerable a Sight, as the World, since the Days of Primitive
Christianity, has ever look'd upon.

He was well Studied in the Body of Divinity; An Able Defender of the
Faith and Order of the Gospel; Notably Conversant and Acquainted with the
Scriptural Prophecies; And, by Consequence, A Sober Chiliast.

He Lived as a Master, the Term, which has been for above three thousand
years, assign'd for the Life of a Man; he continued unto the Ninety Fourth yeai*
of his Age, an unusual Instance of Liveliness. His Intellectual Force, as little
abated as his Natural. He Exemplified the Fulfilment of that word, As thy
Days, so shall thy Strength be; in the Gloss which the Jerusalem Targum
has put upon it; As thou wast in the Dayes of thy Youth, such thou shalt be
in thy Old Age. The Reward of his Fruitfulness > For, Fructus Liberal
Arbor em I The product of Temperance ; Rather than what my Lord Verulam
assigns, as a Reason for Vir.acious Scholars.

DEATH must now do its part. He Dy'd, Longing for Death. Our old
SIMI'X)N waited for it, that he might get nearer to the Consolation of Israel.
He Dyed Leaning like Old Jacob, upon a Staff; the Sacrifice and the Right
eoiiS7iess of a Glorious CHRIST, he let us know, was the Golden Staff, which he
Lean'd upon. He Dyed mourning for the Quick Aposiasic, which he saw break-
ing in upon us ; very easie about his own Eternal Happiness, but full of Distress
for a poor People here under the Displeasure of Heaven, for Former Iniquities^
he tliou^ht, as well as Later 0x)e9. To sav no more: He Dyed, A CANDI-
DATE FOR THE FIRST RF^SURRECtlON. And Verily, our Land is
Weakened, when those P'ly away, at whose Flight me may cry out. My Father,
My Father, the Chariots o/New England, and the Horsemen thereof."

EZEKIEL CIIEEVER.
GRATITUDINIS ERGO.

39

An E S S A Y on the ^lemory of my Venerable MASTER ;

Augusta perstringere Carmine Laudes.
Quas nulla Eloquij vis Celebrare qiieat.

YOU that are Men, & Thoughts of Man-
hood know.
Be Just now to the Man that made you so.
Martyr'd by Scholars the stabb'd Cassian

dies,
And falls to cursed Lads a Sacrifice.
Not so my CHEEVEll ; Not by Scholars slain,
But Prais'd, and Lov'd, and wish'd to Life

again.
A mighty Tribe of Well-instructed Youth
Tell what they owe to him, and Tell with

Truth,
All the Eight parts of Speech he taught to

them
They now Employ to Trumpet his Esteem.
They fill Fames Trumpet, and they spread a

Fame
To last till the Last Trumpet drown the same.
Magister pleas'd them well, because 'twas he ;
They saw that Bonus did with it agree.
While they said, Amo, they the Hint improve
Jlim for to make the Object of their Love.
No Concord so Inviolate they knew
As to pay Honours to their Master due.
With Interjections they break off at last,
But, Ah, is all they use, Wo, and, Alas!
We I.earnt Prosodia, but with that Design
Our Masters Name should in our Feraes shine,
Our Weeping Ovid but instructed us
To write upon his Death, De Tristibus.
Tally we read, but still with this Intent,
That in his praise we might be Eloquent.
Our Stately Virgil made us but Contrive
As our Anchises to keep him Alive.
When Phcenix to Achilles was assign'd
A Master, then we thought not Homer blind :
A Ph(B7iix, which Oh ! miglit his Ashes shew !
So rare a Thing we thought our Master too.
And if we made a Theme, 'twas with Regret
We might not on his Worth show all our Wit,

Go on. ye Grateful Scholars, to proclame
To late Prosterity your Masters Name.
Let it as many Languages declare
As on Zrf>re//o-Table do appear.
To much to be by any one exprest:
I'll tell my share, and yoti shall tell the rest.
fnk is too vile a Liquor ; Liquid Gold
Should fill the Pen, by which such things are

told.

The Book should Amyanthus-Va.per be

All writ with Gold, from all corruption free.

A Learned Ma.ster of the Languages
Which to Rich Stores of Learning are the
Keues:

He taught us first Good Sense to understand
And put the Golden Kcycs into our Hand,
We but for him had been for Learning Dumb,
And had a sort of Turkish Mutes become.
Were Grammar quite Extinct, yet at his Brain
The Candle might have well been lit again.
li Rhet'rick had been stript of all her Pride
She from his Wardrobe might have been Sup-

ply'd.
Do but Name CHEEVER, and the Echo

straight
Upon that Name, Good Latin, will Repeat,
A Christian Terence, Master of the File
That arms the Curious to Reform their Style.
Now Rome and Athens from their Ashes rise ;
See their Platonick Year with vast surprise ;
And in our Schools. Miracle is wrought ;
For the Dead Languages to Life are brought.
His Work he Lov'd : Oh ! had w^e done the
same !
Our Play-dayes still to him ungrateful came.
And yet so well our Work adjusted Lay,
We came to Work, as if we came to Play.
Our Lads had been, but for his wondrous

Cares,
Boyes of my Lady Mores unquiet Pray'rs.
Sure were it not for such informing Schools,
Our Lat'ran too would soon be fill'd with

Oicles.
'Tis CORLET's pains, & CHEEVER's, we

must own.
That thou, Xew England, art not Scythia

grown.
The Isles of Silly had o're-run this Day
The Continent of our America.
Grammar he taught, which 'twas his work to

do:
But he would Hagar have her place to know.
The Bible is the Sacred Grammar, where
The Rules of speaking well, contained are.
He taught us Lilly, and he Gospel taught ;
And us poor Children to our Saviour brought-
Master of Sentences, he gave us more
Then we in our Sententicb had before.
We Learn't Good Things in TuUies Offices;
But we from him Learn't Better things than

these
With Cato's he fo us the Higher gave
Lessons of JESUS, that our Souls do save.
We Constru'd Ovid's Metamorphosis,
But on our selves charg'd, not a Change t*

miss.
Young Austin wept, when he saw Dido dead,
Tho' not a Tear for a Lost Scnil he had ;

40

EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

Our Master would not let us be so vain,
But us from Virgil d\d to David train,
Textors Epistles would not Cloathe our Souls;
Pauls too we heard; we icent to School at

Pauls.
Syrs, Do you not Remember well the Times
Wheu us he warn'd against our Youthftd

Crimes :
WHiat Uonexj dropt from our old Nestors

mouth
When with his Counsels he Reform'd our

Youth :
How much he did to make us Wise and Good;
And with what Prayers^ his work he didcon-

' elude.
Concern"d, that when from him we Learning

had,
It mijrht not Armed Wickedness be made !
The Sun shall first the Zodiac forsake,
And Stones unto the Stars their Flight shall

make:
First shall the Summer bring large drifts of

(S'/Joir,
And beauteous Cherries in December grow ;
E're of those Charges we Forgetful are
Which we, O man of God, from thee did

hear.
Such Tutors to the Little Ones would be
Such that in Flesh we should their Angels

see ;
Ezekiel should not be the Name of such ;
We'd Agathangelus not think too much.
Who Serv'd the School, the Church did not

forget ;
But Thought, and Pray'd, and often wept for

it.
Mighty in Prayer : How did he wield thee,

Pray'r !
Thou Reverst Thunder: CHRIST's-Sides-

piercing Spear 1
Soaring we saw the Bird of Paradise ;
So Wing'd by Tliee, for Flights beyond the

Skies.
How oft we saw him tread the Milky Way,
Which to the Glorious Throne of Mercy lay !
Come from the Mounr, he shone with an-
cient Grace,
Awful the Splendor of his Aged Face.
Cloathd in the Good Old Way, his Garb did

wage
A War with the Vain Fashions of the Age.
Fearful of nothing more than hateful Sin ;
'Twas that from which he laboured all to

win,
Zealous; And in Truths Cause ne'r known

to trim ;
No Neuter Gender there allowM by him.
Stars but a TViousand did the Ancients know.
On later Globes they Nineteen hundred grow|
Now such a CHEEVER added to the Spherej
Makes an Addition to the Lustre there.

Mean time America a Wonder saw ;
A Youth in Age^ forbid by Natures Law.

You that in t'other Hemisphere do dwell,
Do of Old Age your dismal Stories tell.
You tell oi Snowy Heads and Rheumy Eyes!
And things Uiat make a man himself despise.
You say, a. frozen Liquor chills the Veins,
And scarce the Shadow of a Man remains
Will ter of Life, that Sapless Age you call,
And of all Maladies the Hospital:
The Second Nonage of the Soul; the Brain
Cover'd with Cloud ; the Body all in pain.
To weak Old Age, you say, there must belong
A Trembling Palsey both oi Limb and Tongue,
Dayes all Decrepit ; and a Bending Back,
Propt by a Staff, in Ha7ids that ever shake.
Nay, Syrs, our CHEEVER shall confute

you all,
On whom there did none of these Mischefs fall.
He Lfr'rf, and to vast Age no Illness knew ;
Till Times Scythe waiting for him Rusty

grew.
He Liv'd and Wrought ; His Labours were

Immense ;
But ne'r Declined to Prater-perfect Tense.
A Blooming Youth in him at Ninety Four
We saw ; But, Oh ! when such a sight before
At Wondrous Age he did his Yo7ith resume.
As when the Eagle mew's his Aged plume.
With Faculties of Rea-fon still so bright,
And at Good Services so Exquisite ;
Sure our sound Chiliast, we wondring

thought,
To the First Resurrection is not brought !
No, He for that was waiting at the Gate
In the Pure Things that fit a Candidate.
Be in Good Actions did his Life Employ,
And to make others Good, he made his Joy.
Thus wellappris'd now of the Life to Come,
To Live here was to him a Martyrdom.
Our brave Maerobius Long'd to see the Day
Which others dread, of being CalVd away.
So, Ripe with Age, he does invite the Hook,
Which watchful does for its large Harvest

look:
Death gently cut the Stalk, and kindly laid
Him, where our God His Granary has made,

Wlio at NewIIttven first began to Teach,
Dying Unshipwreck'd, does White-Haven

reach.
At that Fair Haven they all Storms forget ;
He there his DAVENPORT with Love does

meet.
The Luminous Robe, the Lo.<}s whereof with

Shame
Our Parents wept, when Naked they became;
Those Lovely Spirits wear it, and therein
Serve God with Priestly Glory, free from Sin.

But in his Paradisian Rest above.
To Us does the Blest Shade retain his Love.
With Rip'ned Thoughts Above concern'd for

Us,
We can't but hear him dart his Wishes, thus.
• TUTORS, Be Strict ; But yet be Gentle too :
' Don't by fierce Cruelties fair Hopes undoe.

EZEKIEL CHEEVER. 41

Dream not, that they who are to Learping

slow,
' Will mend by Arguments in Ferio.

• Who keeps the Golden Fleece, Oh, let him

not
' A Dragon be, tho' he Three Tongues have

got.
' Why can you not to Learning find the way,
' But thro' the Province of Severia 7
'■ Twas Moderatus^ who taught Origen ;
' A Youth which prov'd one of the best of

men.
•The Lads with Honour first, and iZeawn

Rule;

• Blowes are but for the Refractory Foal.

Et Tumulum facile, et Tumulo superaddite carmm — [Virg. in Pephn

• But, Oh ! First Teach them their Great

God to fear ;
'That you like me, with Joy may meet
them here.'

H' has said !

Adieu, a little whihe, Dear Saint, Adieu ;
Your Scholar won't be Long, Sir, alter you.
In the mean time, witli Gratitude 1 must
Engrave an EPITAPH upon your Dust.
'Tis true, Excessive Merits rarely safe :
Such an Excess forfeits an Ejyitaph.
But if Base men the Rules of Justice break
The Stones (at least upon the Tombs) wili
speak.

EPITAPHIUM.

EZEKIEL CHEEVERUS I

Ludimagister;
Primo Neo-porlensis;
Deinde, Ipsuicensis;
Postea, Carolotenensis
Postremo, Bostonensis :

cujus
Doctrinam ac Virtutem i

Nostri, si Sis Nov-Anglus,
Colis, si non Barbarus ;
GRAMMATICUS,
a Quo, non pure tantum, sed et pie,
Loqui ;
RHETORICUS,
a Quo non tantum Ornate dicere

coram Hominibus,

Sed et Orationes coram Deo fundere

Efficacissimas;

POETA,

a Quo non tantum Carmina pangere,

Sedet

Caeleetes Hymnos, Odasq ; Angelicas.

canere,

Didicerunt,

Qui discere voluerunt ;

LUCERNA,
ad Quam accensa sunt,
Quis queaf numerare,
Quot Ecclesiarum Lumina t
ET
Qui secum Corpus Theologiaj abstuHt,

Peritissimus THEOLOGUS,
Corpus hie suum sibi minus Charum,
deposuit.
Vixit Annos, XCIV.
Docuit, Annos, LXX.
Obiit, A.D. M. DCC. VIIL
Et quod Mori potuit,

HEIC

Expectat Exoptatq :

Primam Sanctorum Resurrectionem

ad

Immortalitatem.

42 EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

Mr. Cheever married his first wife in New Haven, (according to
the Diary of Judge Sewall), in the autumn of 1638. In the
baptismal record of the first church, the second baptism is that of
"Samuel Cheevers, the son of Ezekiel Cheevers," "the iVth of the
9th month (November), 1639, — who died at Marblehead in 1724.
Mary, his daughter, was baptized 29th of November, 1640; his son,
Ezekiel, was baptized 12th of June, 1642, and died 1643; another
daughter, Elizabeth, was baptized the 6th of April, 1645. According
to the same baptismal record, " Sarah Cheever," probably another
daughter of his, was baptized 21st, September, 1646; and, "Hannah
Cheever" on the 25th of June, 1648. His first wife died at New
Haven, in 1649, and her death may have been one of the causes of
his removal to another field of labor.

He married,! ^^^ ^^^ second wife, on 18 Nov., 1652, Miss Ellen Lo-
throp,of Salem, a sister of Captain Thomas Lothrop, who was massa-
cred at Bloody Brook, at the head of the " flower of Essex." Of this
marriage were born Abigail, on the 20th of October, 1653 ; Ezekiel, on
the 1st of July, 1655 ; Nathaniel, on the 23d of June, 1657, (died in
July following); Thomas, on the 23d of August, 1658; and, Susanna,
whose baptism is i>ecorded in 1665. Of the children above-named,
Thomas, Samuel, Mary, Elizabeth, Ezekiel, and Susanna are named in
his last will,* and were living in February, 1705-6. His second wife
died on the 10th of Sept., 1706.

* We are indebted for a copy of Ezekiel Cheever's Will to Mr. S. Bradford Morse, Jr., of
East Boston, who is married to a descendant of tlie venerable school-master.

TE^E LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF EZEKIEL CHEEVER.

Tin ?Vrnmnir rinininT 01 mm I Ezekiel Cheever of the town of Bos-

JU i\ online U'Oinini ^mCn* ton m ye Coumy of Sutrolk in New Eng-
land, Schoolmaster, being through great mercy in good health and understanding wonderfull
in my age, Do make and ordain this my Last will and Testamt: as followeth.

First 1 give up my Soul to God my fa'iher in Jesus Christ, my Body to Ihe Earth to be De-
cently buried in a Decent manner according to my Desire in hope of a Blessed part in ye first
Resurrection & Glorious Kingdom of Christ on Earth a thousand years.

As for my outward Estate 1 thus Dispose of it. First I Give to my Dear wife all my house-
hold Goods and of my plate ye two Ear'd Cupp, my Leat Tankard, a porringer, a Spoon.

//; 1 give my Son Thomas all my Books Saving what Ezekiel may need & what Godly
Books my wife may Desire.

Item. I give to my Grand Child Ezekiel Russell twenty pounds.

Item. I Devide all the Rest of mv Estate info three parts one third 1 give to my Dear wife
Ellen Cheever ye other two thirds to my other Children Samuel, Mary, Elizatii, Ezekiel,
Thoma-s Susanna equally part part alike the Legacyes, Debts «fc funeral Expences Deducted
& Discharged.

Maries portion I give to her Children as she shall Dispose. The F,and Elizath purchased
with my money I give to her & to her Children forever. If my wife Dyes before me all given
lier shall be given to mv Six Children equally. If any of my Child" Dye their portion I give
to their ('hildren equaly.

lli-m. 1 give to the poor five pounds as part of my funeral Chargs : Item. I make & ap-
point my Dear wife Ellen Cheever «k my two Children Thomas & Susanna Joint E.x'enators
of this my Last will. In witness: whertof I have hereunto Set my hand & Seal this Six-
teeiilh Day of Februarv 1705-6 :

Ezekiel Ch-ver & Sr'al. Signed Sealed Declared in presence of Benja Dyer Henry Bridge-
ham, Henrv Bridghame.

Examined Per: P. Dudley Regr.

From Probate Rfi.cords, Liber No. 16. pp. 4r)2-4o3.

t On the authority of James Savage, Esq., President of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
The names of the children by the second wife are taken from a manuscript memorandum,
belonging to Rev. Ezekiel Chetver Williams, of

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

Samuel Johnson, D. D., the first president of King's (now Colum-
bia,) College, New York, was born at Guilford, Conn., Oct. 14th,
1696. His father and grandfather were both residents of Guilford,
and both deacons of the congregational church in that town. His
great-grandfather, Robert Johnson, was one of the original settlers Oi
New Haven. From a very early age, he manifested a great fondness
for books, and his father, after a trial of four or five years, finding it
impossible to reconcile him to the idea of business, finally complied
with his earnest wishes, and allowed him to prepare to enter Yale
College, then recently organized. He fitted for college under Mr. Eliot,
who afterward settled at Killingworth, as a preacher. Mr. Chapman,
who succeeded Mr. Eliot as a teacher, at Guilford, and Mr. James, a
very eminent scholar of Guilford. At the age of fourteen, he en-
tered Yale College, then located at Saybrook, receiving instruction
from Messrs. Noyes and Fisk, at that time tutors in the college, as
the rector of the college, Mr. Andrew, then resided at Milford, and
only instructed the senior class. In 1714, he took the degree of A.
B., having, in addition to the ordinary college studies, made some
progress in Hebrew.

The early part of the eighteenth century was a period of great de-
pression to all the interests of learning in New England. The emi-
nent scholars of the early emigration were dead, and most of those
who came over, at the period of the restoration, had also passed
away; since the revolution of 168S, the causes which had led to
emigration had been removed, and more returned to England than
came from thence ; the generation upon the stage at the time of Mr.
Johnson's graduation, were almost entirely educated in this country ;
and, though the course of study at Harvard College was respectable
for the time, and the circumstances of a colony, whose existence was
yet numbered by decades of years, yet it was far from being up to the
standard of European culture. Yale College had maintained a sort
of nomade existence, for some thirteen years ; its trustees were among
the most eminent scholars of the colony, and they were disposed to
do what they could to make it a reputable school of learning; but
its course of instruction was extremely limited. At the time Mr.
Johnson took his degree, all that was attempted, in the way of classi-

44 SAMUEL JOHNSON.

cal learning, was the reading of five or six of Cicero's orations, as
many books of Virgil, and a part of the Hebrew Psalter. In mathe-
matics, only common arithmetic, and a little surveying were taught ;
in logic, metaphysics and ethics, the doctrines of the schoolmen still
held sway, and Descartes, Boyle, Locke, Newton, and Bacon, were
regarded as innovators, from whom no good could be expected or
hoped. In theology, Ames' '^ Medulla,''^ and " Cases of Conscience,''^
and " WoUebiuSj^ were the standards.

With, perhaps a pardonable vanity, Mr. Johnson, who had stood
very high as a scholar in his class, regarded himself as possessing
superior attainments ; but his good opinion of his own abilities was
\ery suddenly lowered, when, a year or two later, chance threw in
his way, a copy of Lord Bacon's ^^Advancement of Learning ^^'' then
a very rare book in this country. Humbled by the sense of his own
ignorance, which that book gave him, he was still much enlightened
by it. and, to use his own language, " seemed to himself like a person
suddenly emerging out of the glimmer of twilight, into the full sun-
shine of open day." His mind being thus prepared for further cul-
ture, he soon had an opportunity for its subsequent development. A
collection of books made in England by Mr. Duramer, the agent of
the colony, amounting to about eight hundred volumes, was sent over
to the college. Among them were the works of Sir Isaac Newton,
Blackman, Steele, Burnet, Woodward, Halley, Bentley, Kennet, Bar-
row, Patrick, South, Tillotson, Sharp, Scott, and Whitby. To a
mind, as earnest as was his to acquire knowledge, these books fur-
nished indeed "a feast of fat things." In company with Messrs.
Cutler, Eliot, Hart, Whittelsey, and his classmates, Wetmore and
Brown, he devoted all liis leisure to their perusal.

Meantime, the college was in great dano^er of extinction. The stu-
dents, complaining of the unfitness of their tutors, scattered them-
selves in different parts of the colony, studying under such teachers
as they chose ; a part, including those living in the vicinity of Con-
necticut River, placed themselves under the direction of Messrs.
Woodbridge and Buckingham, the ministers at Hartford, who were
trustees of the college, and at their instigation, Messrs. Williams and
Smith, two young ministers, were persuaded to set up a collegiate
school at Wethersfield, in the hope of obtaining a removal of the
college thither ; and to this school, the students of the river towns
resorted. Those belonging to the towns on the sea-shore, put them-
selves under the tuition of Mr. Johnson, at Guilford.

Under these circumstances, a meeting of the trustees was held, in
the spring of 1716 ; a majority of the trustees present, as well as

SAMUEL JOHNSON. ^ ,g

the governor, Mr. Saltonstall, of New London, were in favor of estab-
lisliing tlie college at New Haven ; but the minority were very bitter
in their opposition, and a vote was passed, referring the matter to the
general court, which was to be held at New Haven, in October of that
year. This meeting of the trustees was not attended by Messrs.
Woodbridge and Buckingham, the Hartford ministers, and they pro-
tested against its legality and its action.

At the meeting of the general court, (or colonial legislature,) a
majority of the members of both houses were found to be in favor Oi
establishing the college at New Haven, and an act of assembly was
passed for that purpose. The majority of the trustees then met, and
appointed Mr. Johnson, who was then but twenty years of age, one
of the tutors, and, with a view of reconciling the minority, selected
Mr. Smith, one of the Wethersfield teachers, as the other. They
also commenced a subscription to obtain the means of erecting a col-
lege building, and procured an architect from Boston, to oversee the
building.

The minority, however, were inexorable ; Mr. Smith and all his
party refusing to consider any overtures for a union, and the Weth-
ersfield school was maintained. The students along the sea-coast,
about twenty in number, came together at New Haven, and Mr.
Johnson began his course of instruction there, assisted by Mr. Noyes,
the minister of the town. On the 12th September, 171 7, a com-
mencement was held at New Haven, and the same day at Wethers-
field, and degrees were conferred in both places. The trustees at
New Haven, chose Mr. Brown, a classmate of Mr. Johnson, as a
second tutor. Harmonizing fully in their views, these two young
men exerted themselves to the utmost, for the improvement of the
students under their charge, extending the course of mathematical
study, introducing the works of Locke and Sir Isaac Newton, into the
college course, and substituting the Copernican for the Ptolemanic
system, which had hitherto been taught. It was a fortunate circum-
stance for them, that the troubles without, withdrew public attention
from these innovations within. The succeeding year, (17 18,) the
trouble which had existed between the two parties at New Haven
and Wethersfield, was settled by a compromise. The degrees given
at Wethersfield were confirmed ; a tract of land belonging to the
colony was sold, and of' the avails £200 currency, was given to the
college at New Haven, and £800 currency to Hartford, toward the
erection of a state house, as an ofi*set for the loss of the college. As
a result of this settlement, the Wethersfield students came to New
Haven, and though somewhat turbulent, there was but little subse-
quent trouble with them.

45 SAMUEL JOIINSOJf.

The same year, Rev. Timothy Cutler, at that time pastor of the
congregational church in Stratford, and an intimate friend of Mr.
Johnson, was chosen rector of the college, and having received a very
liberal donation from Elihu Yale, of London, the trustees gave to their
new building, the name of Yale College. In a little more than a year
after the appointment of Mr. Cutler to the rectorship, Mr. John-
son resigned his tutorship, to enter upon the duties of the pastorate,
and was ordained and settled at AVest Haven in March, 1*720, reject-
ing several more eligible offers, in order that he might be near the
college, and have the advantage of its library, and the society of its
teachers.

Of the change which soon after took place in his religious views,
and which led him, and several of his friends, to seek ordination in
the Anglican church, it is not our province here to speak at length ; it
was unquestionably the result of an honest, conscientious, and sincere
belief in the error of his previous creed, and when we consider that
its result was to cut him off from the sympathy and regard of all his
previous friends, and to deprive him of the fairest opportunities of
preferment and reputation, which w^ere ever perhaps oftered to a
young man in his position, we can not avoid doing honor to the moral
courage which led to the step, however we may regard the creed he
adopted. Suffice it to say, that in November, 1722, rector Cutler
and Mr. Brown, having resigned their offices, set sail in company with
Mr. Johnson, for England, to receive ordination from an English
bishop. Mr. Wetmore, another classmate of Mr. Johnson, followed,
a few months later. In March, 1*723, they were ordained by the
Bishop of Norwich, and the week after Mr. Brown died of the small
pox.

In May, Mr. Cutler received the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and
Mr. Johnson, of Master of Arts, from the University of Oxford, and
soon after, the same degrees were conferred on them by the University
of Cambridge. Dr. Cutler and Mr. Johnson returned to this country,
in the summer of 1723, and Mr. Johnson, having received an ap-
pointment as missionary of the Society for the Propagation of the
Gospel, settled over the Episcopal church, at Stratford, Conn. The
change in his views subjected him to considerable opposition, but his
equable temper, his cheerful and benevolent disposition, and the
marked purity and dignity of his character, disarmed the enmity of
those who opposed him, and caused the people to esteem him highly.
In 1725, he married Mrs. Charity Nicoll, the daughter of Col. Rich-
ard Floyd, and widow of Benjamin Nicoll, Esq., of Long Island, by
whom she had had two sons and a dauirhter.

SAMUEL JOHNSON. ^^

It was tlie fortune of Mr. Johnson to be on terms of intimacy and
correspondence, with many of the most eminent scholars of his day,
both in England and this country. Among the most intimate of his
friends, at this period of his life, was Governor Burnett of New York,
a son of the celebrated Bishop of that name, and a man of great
learning and genius, but eccentric both in his views and his mode of
reasoning. The Governor having embraced the opinions of Clarke,
Whiston, and others, on the subject of the Trinity, and of Bishop
Hoadley, Jackson and Sykes, on the subject of ecclesiastical authority,
sought to win his friend Johnson to his views. Mr. Johnson's mental
habits were such, that he would neither receive or reject any theory
or doctrine, until he had carefully and patiently examined it on all
sides ; and he accordingly bent all his fine powers to the investiga-
tion of the questions discussed by the authors already named ; the
result was to confirm him in his previous views, though with a large
charity for those who diff"ered from him in opinion. In 1729, soon
after the conclusion of this investigation. Bishop Berkeley, then dean
of Derry, Ireland, came to this country, and resided for two and a half
years near Newport, R. I. During his residence here, Mr. Johnson
often visited him and was on terms of close intimacy with him, and
often in his after life referred to these interviews, as having been of
great advantage to him, in the improvement of his mind, by free in-
tercourse with so eminent a scholar, and philosopher. When the
Dean was about leaving America, Mr. Johnson paid him a final visit,
and in the course of conversation, took occasion to commend to his
notice Yale College as a deserving institution, and to express the hope
that he might send the college some books. The commendation was
remembered ; two years after, the Dean and some of his friends sent
to the college a present of nearly a thousand volumes of choice books,
two hundred and sixty of them folios. The value of this gift was not
less than two thousand five hundred dollars. About the same time he
forwarded to Mr. Johnson, a deed conveying to the trustees, his farm
of ninety-six acres on Rhode Island, the annual income of which was
to be divided between three bachelors of arts, who, upon examina-
tion by the rector of the college, and a minister of the church of
England, should appear to be the best classical scholars ; provided
they would reside at the college, the three years between their bache-
lor's and master's degrees, in the prosecution of their studies ; and
the forfeiture, in cases of non-residence, were to be given in premi-
ums of books, to those that performed the best exercises. For many
years after the return of Bishop Berkeley, to England, Mr. Johnson's
life passed smoothly, in the performance of his parochial duties, and

48 SAMUEL JOHNSON.

the prosecution of bis studies ; occasionally, tlie calm and even tenor
of his life, was slightly ruffled by pamphlet controversies, with those
who attacked the creed or practice of the Anglican church — contro-
versies in which he rarely or never acted the part of the aggressor,
but usually of the respondent. Of this character was his controversy
with Mr. Dickinson, Mr. Foxcroft, Mr. Graham, his " Letter from
Aristocles to AnthadesP and his rejoinder to Mr. Dickinson's reply
to that letter. In controversy, as every where else, it may be re-
marked, that Mr. Johnson exhibited the character of the Christian
gentleman, never suffering himself to be betrayed into the use of the
bitter and acrimonious language, which have made the odium theo-
logicum^ proverbial, as the most venomous of all hatreds. In 1*746,
Mr. Johnson published "^ System of Morality, containing the first
principles of moral philosophy or ethics, iif a chain of necessary con-
sequences from certain facts." This work had a high reputation at
the time of its publication, and met with an extensive sale. In 1743,
the degree of Doctor in Divinity, was unanimously conferred upon
him by the University of Oxford. The degree was conferred, it is
said, at the special instance of Archbishop Seeker, then Bishop of
Oxford, Dr. Ilodges, then Vice-Chancellor of the University and
Provost of Oriel College, Dr. Astry, and others.

The honor thus conferred on him, had only the effect to make him
more zealous in his studies, especially in Hebrew and the other ori-
ental languages, in which he was more proficient than most of the
scholars of the eighteenth century, in this country.

Dr. Johnson had two sons ; William Samuel, and William, both
whom he fitted for college himself, and entered them at Yale when
they were about thirteen years of age. The elder became eminent
as a lawyer, recei\'ed the degree of LL. D. from the University of
Oxford, in 17G6, and was, for several years, the agent of the Colony
in England ; the younger studied divinity, and was subsequently a
tutor in King's College, under his father.

Dr. Johnson prepared a compendium of logic and metaphysics, and
another of ethics, for the use of his sons, and these were published
together in 1752, by Benjamin Franklin, for the use of the Univer-
sity of Pennsylvania, then just established at Philadelphia. Dr.
Johnson and Dr. Franklin were constant correspondents for many
years, and the views of the latter on electricity were laid before Dr.
Johnson, before their publication. The plan of education in the Uni-
vftrsity in which Dr. Franklin was deeply interested, was also modified
at his suggestion, and he was offered the presidency of it, which,
however, he declined.

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

49

In 1*753, the principal gentlemen of New York, with Lieutenant-
Governor Delancey at their head, undertook to found a college in
New York City. In all their plans. Dr. Johnson was consulted, and
when the charter was obtained, and they were ready to organize the
college, he was elected president. He at first declined, but finding
that, unless he accepted, they would relinquish the enterprise, he very
reluctantly consented, and in 1*754 took leave of his congregation at
Stratford, with deep regret on both sides. A singular condition was
attached to his acceptance, which shows how great an amount of
terror the ravages of small-pox had produced in the minds of all
classes, at that time ; " he was to be at liberty to retire to some place
of safety in the country, whenever the small-pox should render it
dangerous for him to reside in the city."* To those who have only
known its dangers, when modified by vaccination, this extraordinary
dread seems almost incredible.

On the 17th July, 1*754, the first class, consisting of ten students,
assembled in the vestry-room of Trinity Church, and the regular
course of study was commenced, the doctor himself hearing the reci-
tations. In addition to the labor of instruction, he also drew up the
form of prayers for the college, composed a suitable collect, compiled
a body of laws for their use, devised a seal for the corporation, as-
sisted in the planning of the college edifice, and wrote to his friends
in England, Bishop Sherlock, Archbishop Seeker, and the Society for
the propagation of the gospel, for assistance. On the admission of
the second class, his younger son, William Johnson, was appointed
tutor, which office he filled, to universal acceptance, for more than a
year, when he sailed for England, in November, 1755, with a view to
take orders, and settle, as the missionary of the Society for the propa-
gation of the gospel, at Westchester. He received holy orders, in
March, and the degree of A. M. was conferred on him by both Ox-
ford and Cambridge, in May, 1756 ; but, soon after his return from
Cambridge, he was seized with the small-pox, of which he died, June
20th, 1756. A Mr. Cutting, educated at Eton and Cambridge, suc-
ceeded Mr. Johnson as tutor ; the college edifice was making good
progress, but, soon after the president received the painful intelligence
of the death of his son, he was compelled to leave New York, by the
prevalence of the small-pox there, and could not return under a year.

* The small-pox seems to have been, through life, " the skeleton on the hearth " to the good
doctor; and this is hardly matter of surprise ; for, at the commencement of his ministry,
his friend, Dr. Cutler, hardly escaped with his life from it in England ; his friend, Mr. Brown,
died with it there, as did also, subsequent to his removal to New York, his younger son ;
he himself more than once left his post in New York, in consequence of its prevalence ; and,
in 1763, his second wife fell a victim to it. D

50 SAMUEL JOHNSON.

He left about thirty students in the three classes, and, as Mr. Cutting
was unable to teach them all, Mr. Tread well, a graduate of Harvard
College, was appointed second tutor. During the year iVoY, the
college received from England a library, consisting of about fifteen
hundred volumes, the bequest of Rev. Dr. Bristovve, through the So-
ciety for the propagation of the gospel. Dr. Johnson returned to
New York, in March, 1Y58, and in June following was called to bury
his wife, with whom he had lived very happily for thirty-two years.
On the 21st June, 1758, he held his first commencement, at which the
students received their first degree, and several other persons the second.
During the succeeding year, the college curriculum was more thor-
oughly systematized, the president giving instructions in Greek, logic,
metaphysics, and ethics, while the tutors, or professors as they were
now called, divided between them the other studies. In 1*759, soon
after the second commencement, he was again obliged to leave the
city in consequence of the prevalence of the small-pox, and spent the
winter at Stratford, though not without much anxiety of mind rela-
tive to the college, as the mathematical professor was very ill with
consumption, and died the ensuing spring. In April, Beujarain
Nicoll, one of Dr. Johnson's step-sons, an eminent lawyer in New
York, and one of the governors or trustees of the college, died very
suddenly. The loss was a very severe one to the college, and to the
community, but Dr. Johnson was almost overwhelmed by it, and de-
sired to resign his office and return to Stratford, to spend the remain-
der of his days, with his only surviving son ; and accordingly he
wrote to England, desiring that two gentlemen might be sent out, one
to act as mathematical professor, and the other to take his place.
The college edifice was at this time completed, and he removed into
it, and here held, in May, 1760, his third commencement, and, in con-
nection with Mr. Cutting, performed the whole duty of teaching the
four classes that year. In 1761, soon after the fourth commence-
ment, he published an essay, entitled "^ Demonstration of the Rea-
sonableness^ Usefulness^ and great Duty of Prayer^'' and, not long
after, a sermon "0;i the Beauty of Holiness in the Worship of the
Church of England.'"' In June of the same year, he married a second
wife, Mrs. Beach, the widow of an old friend and former parishioner.
At the commencement of the ^ext term, a mathematical professor,
Mr. Robert Harper, was appointed, and the cares of the president
somewhat diminished. The college had been partially endowed by
moneys raised by subscription, and by a lottery, at the time of its
charter, and had subsequently received a donation of £500 from the
Society for the propagation of the gospel, and a Mr. Murray had be-

SAMUEL JOHNSON. 51

queathed to it an estate of about £10,000 currency ; but, after erect-
ing the necessary buildings, and incurring other expenses, its funds
were reduced so low, that the interest was not sufficient, with the other
income of the college, for the support of the officers, and it was there-
fore necessary that it should be further endowed. The president was
desirous that an effort should be made to procure some assistance
from England, and a suitable opportunity offering, in the visit of
James Jay, M. D., to England, the governors were persuaded by the
president to accept Dr. Jay's offer, to endeavor to raise funds for them.
The president of the University of Pennsylvania had sailed for Eng-
land a few weeks before, as was subsequently ascertained, on a like
errand in behalf of his own college, and, by the advice of the friends
of both, the collection for the two colleges was made a joint one.
The king, however, gave £400 to the college at New York, which
thenceforward received the name of King's College. The half of
the avails of the collection, received by King's College, amounted to
about £(>,000, above the expenses. In the autumn of 1*762, Rev.
Myles Cooper, a graduate of Queen's College, Oxford, came to Xew
York, recommended by Archbishop Seeker as a suitable person for a
professor in the college, and to succeed Dr. Johnson when he should
resign. He was immediately appointed professor of moral philoso-
phy, and soon won the regard of all the friends of the college. Dr.
Johnson had not intended to resign until after the commencement, in
May, 1763, but the sudden death of Mrs. Johnson, of small-pox, in
February, of that year, determined him to relinquish his situation at
an earlier period, and he accordingly threw in his resignation about
the first of March, and retired to Stratford. Mr. Cooper was chosen
president before the commencement in May, and Dr. Clossy, a gradu-
ate of Trinity College, Dublin, appointed professor of natural philos-
ophy.

In 1764, Dr. Johnson again became rector of the church at Strat-
ford, and continued in that office until his death. But though it
would have seemed that, at the age of nearly seventy, after a life of
so great intellectual activity, he would have sought the repose and
quiet he had so fairly earned, yet we find the instinct of the teacher
was so strong, that he devoted himself to new labors in behalf of his
grand-children, preparing first an English grammar for their use, then
revising his catechism, his works on logic and ethics, and finally prepar-
ing a Hebrew and English grammar, published in London, in 1767,
and subsequently revised and enlarged in 1771. At the same time, he
reviewed, with great care, his theological and philosophical opinions,
and the ground on which they were based ; spent some hours each

52 SAMUEL JOHNSON.

day in the study of the Hebrew scriptures, and, thouf^h laboring
under a partial paralysis of the hand, kept up, with great punctuality,
an extensive correspondence with eminent men, both in England and
America. After his death, portions of his correspondence with
Bishops Berkeley, Sherlock, and Lowth, and Archbishop Seeker, were
published, and fully justified the high reputation in which he had
been held while in life. His death, which occurred on the 6th of
January, 1772, was very peaceful, and, though sudden, entirely unat-
tended with pain. He expired while sitting in his chair, and convers-
ing on his approaching departure, with his family.

The following inscription, composed by his friend and successor in
the presidency of King's College, Kev. Dr. Cooper, was placed upon
Lis monument, in Christ Church, Stratford : —

M. S.
Samuel7s Johnson, D. D.,
Collcgii Regalis, IVovi Eboraci
PrcBsidis primi,
et hujus Ecclesiac nupe Rectoris
Natus die 14to Octob. 1696
Obiit 6to Jan. 1772.
" If decent dignity, and modest mien,
The cheerful heart, and countenance serene;
If pure religion, and unsullied truth,
His age's solace, and his search in youth ;
If piety, in all the paths he trod,
Still rising vig'rous to his Lord and God;
If charity, through all the race he ran
Still wishing well, and doing good to man ;
If learning, free from pedantry and pride, —
If faith and virtue, walking side by side ;
If well to mark his being's aim and end, —
To shine through life, a husband, father, friend ;
If these ambitions in thy soul can raise,
Excite thy reverence, or demand thy praise ;
Reader — ere yet ihou quit this earthly scene,
Revere his name, and be what he has been."

Myles Cooper.

MEMOIR OF CALEB BINGHAM.

WITH NOTICES OF THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF BOSTON, PRIOR TO 1800.
BY WILLIAM B. FOWLE.

Caleb Bingham, who enjoyed an enviable reputation as a private
and public teacher in Boston, Mass., toward the close of the last century,
and, wlio, through his school books, was, perhaps, more extensively
known than any contemporary teacher in the United States, was born
at Salisbury, in the north-western corner of Connecticut, April 15th,
1757. His father* was a very respectable farmer, and his mother a
descendant of Roger Conant,f first among the worthies that settled at
Salem, before Boston was founded by Governor Winthrop.

Little is known of the youth of Caleb. Salisbury was a new town,
containing many Indians of such doubtful character, that the worship-
pers on Sunday, went to church armed ; and the log house used for a
church had portholes like the forts of older New England towns, and
a guard was stationed at the door. Such a state of society would
afford but little chance for a regular education, and the tradition is,
that Caleb was prepared for college by the Rev. Dr. Salter. The sis-
ters remembered that Caleb was a slender boy, while his brother
Daniel was unusually robust, and there can be no doubt that the
same mistake was made, in this case, that is every day made in our
agricultural districts ; the boy who needed air and exercise was con-

• There may be no difficulty in tracing liis paternal ancestors. The tradition is that Jabez,
the grandfather of Caleb, presented his son Daniel, with a hundred acres of land in Salisbury,
near the mountain, and he, after the birth of Caleb, purchased the beautiful farm between the
Lakes Washinee and Washining, and lived there till his decease, February 1, 1805. His wife
had died just a year before him, and the homestead came into the possession of Caleb, whose
local attachment induced him much against his interest and the advice of his family, to buy
out the other heirs, and erect a somewhat expensive house adjoining the old mansion in which
he had spent his youth.

t Cotton Mather informs us that, about the year 1624, a worthy gentleman, Mr. Roger
Conant. was sent over from England to Salem, for the purpose of encouraging, strengthening,
and promoting the settlement of the new country. Soon after his arrival, which was with a
company of whom he was chief, his son Exercise was born. IIow many other sons he had
we are not told, but this Exercise had Josiah and Caleb, and removed into Connecticut, where
he died. His remains were deposited in the burial ground of the First Society in Mansfield,
where his tomb stone is still to be seen. Josiah had but one child, Sliubael, who was a cown-
sellor for the state, colonel of the regiment, judge of the county court and of probate, and dea-
con of the church in Mansfield. Caleb had seven children, of whom Hannah, the younffe.«^t,
married Daniel Bingham, and removed to Salisbury, in Connecticut, where Caleb, their second
Bon, the subject of this memoir, was born.

,54 CALEB BINGHAM.

fiued tCj-svliat is more fatal than hard labor in a penitentiary, the nar-
row walls of a school-room or college, and the hearty boy, who was
able to endure such inactivity, was sent into the field. Whether
Caleb had shown any unusual love for study is not known, but if Jbe
was feeble, as seems to be the fact, he was probably indulged, and allow-
ed to read while his brother was at work.

The family of Dr. Wheelock, the founder of Moor*s school and
Dartmouth college, and that of Mr. Kirkland, the distinguished mis-
sionary to the Indians, were related to the Binghams, and this proba-
bly led Caleb to Dartmouth rather than to New Ilaven. Moor's Indian
school had been removed to the wilderness a few years before, and the
high character of the elder Wheelock, had even obtained aid from
England to found a college, where the scattered condition of the in-
habitants made even common schools a rarity. Mr. Bingham entered
college in 1*779, a bustling period on the frontiers, and he graduated
in 1782. Immediately after he graduated, he was appointed master
of Moor's charity school, which was an appendage to the college, and
under the direction of the same persons who managed the affairs of
the higher institution. The respectful intercourse that always existed
between Mr. Bingham, the Wheelocks, father and son, the professors
of the college, and the venerable Eden Burroughs, clergyman of the
town, to much of which the writer was a witness, abundantly proves
the high estimation in which Mr. Bingham was held as a scholar and
a man. "While an under-graduate, Mr. Bingham united himself with
the church under the care of Mr. Burroughs, and his affection for this
excellent man no doubt led him to take the interest he did in endeav-
oring to check the wayward career of his son, the somewhat notorious
Stephen Burroughs.

Mr. Bingham removed to Boston, about the year 1784.* He had

• It is suspected that, on the way to Boston, he stopped at Andover, and had the care of
Phillips Academy, a few month.s, after Dr. Pearson left it to assume llie professorship of Hebrew
at Harvard college ; for the venerable Josiah Quincy thinks he was Tor several months a pupil
of Mr. Bingham at Andover, where an unsuccessful attempt was made to induce him to be-
come the permanent Principal. There is much truth and feeling in the following extract
from a letter of this distinguished man, and to fully appreciate the tribute, it should be known
(hat the parties were at the opposite extremes in politics, when such a position generally em-
bittered all the intercourse of life. " As the subject lies in my mind," says Mr. Quincy, " in
the autumn of 1785, Mr. Bingham succeeded Dr. Pearson, in the care of the Academy, but did
not remain longer than the April of 1786, While there, I was his pupil, and recollect well
that his kind and affectionate manner of treating the scholars gained their attachment, so that
bis determination not to become a candidate for the permanent instructorship was a subject
of great disappointment to the boys. All my impressions concerning him are of the most
favorable kind. He was a man of heart ; and his feelings led him to take great interest in the
character and success of his pupils, and, as is usual with such men, his kind affections were
reciprocated by those who enjoyed his instruction."

This reminiscence, which is entitled to great weight, places Mr. B.'s advent in Boston, much
later than the time named by his family, and as he married in 1786. it hardly allows a reason-
able time for forming an acquaintance, which must have commenced after his arrival.

CALEB BINGHAM. 55

leamed that there was an opening for an enterprising teacher in Bos-
ton, and he came with the strongest recommendations from the gov-
ernment of the college.

The main object of Mr. Bingham in coming to Boston was to
establish a school for girls ; and the project was of the most promising
description, for the town of Boston had even then become eminent
for its wealth and intelligence, and, strange to say, was deficient in
public and private schools for females. It certainly is a remarkable
tact, that, while the girls of every town in the state were allowed and
expected to attend the village schools, no public provision seems to
have been made for their instruction in the metropolis, and men of
talents do not seem to have met with any encouragement to open
private schools for this all important class of children. The only
schools in the city to which girls were admitted, were kept by the
teachers of public schools, between the forenoon and afternoon ses-
sions, and how insuflScient this chance for an education was, may be
gathered from the fact, that all the public teachers who opened pri-
vate schools, were uneducated men, selected for their skill in pen-
manship and the elements of arithmetic. The schools were called
writing schools ; and, although reading and spelling were also taught
in them, this instruction was only incidental, being carried on, we can
not say "attended to," while the teachers were making or mending
pens, preparatory to the regular writing lesson.

This had probably been the state of things for more than a century,
and at the advent of Mr. Bingham, there were only two such schools,
while there were two others devoted exclusively to the study of Latin
and Greek, although the pupils of these latter schools hardly num-
bered one tenth of the others. Of course, the proposal of Mr. Bing-
ham to open a school, in which girls should be taught, not only
writing and arithmetic, but, reading, spelHng and English grammar,
met with a hearty reception, and his room, which was in State street,
from which schools and dwelling houses have been banished nearly
half a century,* was soon filled with children of the most respectable
families. There does not seem to have been any competition, and Mr.
Bingham had the field to himself for at least four years before any
movement was made to improve the old pubHc system, or to extend
the means of private instruction.

At that time, and for more than a century and a half, the public
schools of Boston, and indeed, those of the state had been under the
control and supervision of the selectmen, three to nine citizens, elect-

• Probably in the building on the lower corner of Devonshire and State streets, afterwards
the Post Office.

56 CALEB BINGHAM.

ed annually to manage the financial and other concerns of the sev-
eral towns, without much, if any, regard to their literary qualifications.
The selectmen of Boston were generally merchants, several of whom,
at the time under consideration, had daughters or relatives in the
school of Mr. Bingham. It was natural that the additional expense
thus incurred, for they were taxed to support the public schools, from
which their daughters were excluded, should lead them to inquire why
such a preference was given to parents with boys ; and the idea seem-
ed, for the first time, to be started, that the prevailing system was not
only imperfect, but evidently unfair. The simplest and most nat-
ural process would have been to open the schools to both sexes, as
the spirit of the laws required, but this would have left the instruction
in the hand of the incompetent writing masters, when a higher order
of teachers was required ; or it would have involved the dismission
of all the writing mastei-s, a bold step, which the committee dared
not to hazard, because many citizens were opposed to any innovation,
and the friends of the masters were so influential, that no change was
practicable, which did not provide for their support. After much con-
sultation, therefore, there bemg some complaint of the insufficient
number of the schools, the school committee proposed the only plan
which seemed to secure the triple object, — room for the girls, employ-
ment for the old masters, and the introduction of others better qual-
ified.

The new plan was to institute three new schools, to be called
Beading Schools, in which reading, spelling, grammar and perhaps
geography, should be taught by masters to be appointed ; the two
old writing schools to be continued, a new one established ; and one
of the Latin schools to be abolished. As no rooms were prepared,
temporary ones were hired, so that the same pupils attended a writing
school in one building half the day, and a reading school in a diflfer-
ent building, at a considerable distance, and under a different and in-
dependent teacher, the other half. Each reading school had its cor-
responding writing school, and while the boys were in one school, the
girls were in the other, alternating forenoon and afternoon, and chang-
ing the half day once a month, because, Thursday and Saturday after-
noons being vacation, this arrangement was necessary to equalize the
lessons taught in the separate schools. This system afterwards acquir-
ed the name of the double-headed system, and it was continued,
essentially, for more than half a century, in spite of all the defects and
abuses to which it was exposed. Even when the town built new
school houses, the upper room was devoted to the reading school, and
the lower to the writing, the masters never changing rooms, and the

CALEB BINGHAM. 57

boys and girls alternating as before. The points gained, however,
were very important, the girls were provided for, better teachers were
appointed, and the sexes were separated into different rooms. This
latter provision, which we consider inestimable, and the great distinc-
tion of the Boston schools, seems to have been the result of accident
or necessity, but the deepest insight into human nature, the profound-
est sagacity, the highest wisdom, could not have invented a more
effectual barrier against vice and depravity. Sentimentalists some-
times tell us of the beneficial influence of the gentler upon the ruder
sex in mixed schools, but a long and wide experience has satisfied the
writer that the evil influences arising from mixed schools, whether prima-
ry, high, or normal, are incalculable. Mr. Bingham would never have
taught a mixed school, and he foresaw that even the primary schools
of Boston, would be nurseries of vice, if, as was proposed, the separa-
tion, which existed in the upper schools, was not extended to them.

As no provision was made in the reading schools for any exercise
in writing, no such exercise was required there ; and the immense
advantage arising from having the teacher able to give instruction in
penmanship, as well as in orthography, and composition, was wholly
lost. The writer passed through an entire course in the Boston
schools, and was never required to write a sentence or a word of Eng-
lish. The first three reading masters were good penmen, and Mr.
Bingham was distinguished for his skill, but this was not afterward
considered an essential qualification of the reading master ; and when,
forty years afterward, a change was proposed in the schools, by which
the "double-headed system" was to be reduced to a single head, the
reading masters were found as incompetent to teach penmanship as
the writing masters had always been to teach any thing else. Another
amusing error prevailed in the schools for more than a quarter of a
century. The committee adopted the notion that girls could not
attend school in Boston, where there were sidewalks, although they
did in the country where there were none ; and so the girls were only
allowed to attend the schools six months, from April to October, and,
during the winter months, half the boys attended the reading schools,
while the other half attended the writing, alternating as the boys and
girls did in summer.

Before the new system went into operation, the great object was, to
secure the services of Mr. Bingham, and he was accordingly appointed
■with a salary of two hundred pounds. His letter accepting the appoint-
ment, is dated Dec. 12, 1*789, and is characteristically modest:— "He
is not sure that he shall fulfill their expectations, and hopes the pecu-
niary sacrifice he makes by relinquishing his private school will be a

58 CALEB BINGHAM.

public gain." The same room he had before occupied, was hired by
the town, and Jan. 4, 1790, the new system went into operation.
Previous to this reform, the writing masters had been allowed to teach
private schools, but this was soon strictly forbidden, and a general re-
monstrance signed by all the reading and writing masters, did not
move the committee to rescind the regulation. Much dissatisfaction
prevailed, but Mr. Bingham, not having opened a private school, did
not enter iato the controversy so zealously as Master Carter and some
others. The small compensation of the teachers, and the want of
schools for girls, under the old plan, had led to this abuse, but, while
we praise the committee for their discernment in abolishing the priv-
ilege, we can not praise their liberality in refusing to raise the salaries
according to the loss evidently incurred.

Another evil in the new system also held its ground for many
years. Boys had been admitted into the Latin school at the early
age of seven years, on the mistaken idea, that the very young are
best qualified to learn a dead language, as they undoubtedly are to
to learn a spoken one. The age was increased to ten years by the
new system, but, as before, no provision was made in the Latin school
for their instruction in English, in penmanship, or in any of the com-
mon branches. To remedy this serious defect, the Latin scholars were
allowed to attend the writing schools two hours, forenoon or afternoon,
and about thirty availed themselves of the privilege, although they
were obliged to neglect one school to attend the other, and unpunctu-
ality and disorder, in all the schools, were the natural consequence.

The prohibition, to teach private schools, does not appear to have
been of long continuance ; for, although the records do not show that
the order was repealed, these intermediate private schools were common
early in the present century, and permission to the Latin scholars to
attend the writing schools was withdrawn. The teacher of the Lat-
in school in connection with a writing master, kept a private English
school in the Latin school-room, while the writer, was a pupil there, in
1808, and the writer himself attended a private school kept by a reading
master in another part of the town. Of course, it was a passport to
favor in every public school, to attend the master's private school also,
and those who only went to the public school, were considered a
somewhat inferior caste. Sometimes the ushers opened private schools
in the evening, but these were chiefly attended by apprentices, and
boys who attended no other school.

Every master was allowed one assistant called an ztsker, and sev-
eral of those first employed, were afterwards advanced to the master-
ship, but this was always treated as a very subordinate situation ; for

CALEB BINGHAM. 59

the salary could not tempt a man of any talent, and the committee soon
let it be seen that ushers were not candidate's for promotion.

Complaints of insufficient pay, were constantly made in the shape
of petitions from both masters and ushers, but no change was made dur-
ing the official career of Mr. Bingham. Mr. B., was a modest and some-
times even timid man, but there were at least, two occasions on which
he show^ed that there was no lack of moral courage, when his course was
clearly indicated by duty. He had not long been in office, before he,
and all the other teachers, had reason to complain of the unpunctu-
ality of the town in paying their salaries. The treasurer was accus-
tomed, either for the want of funds, or for the sake of speculation in
the stock he created,»to give a paper to the teachers, certifying that
the town owed them a certain sum, and this certificate, which was
called a " town order," the needy masters were obliged to sell at a
considerable discount. As remonstrance might be followed by dis-
mission, the teachers bore the imposition a long time ; but, at last,
Mr. Bingham, smarting under the repeated losses that he had suf-
fered, and not readily finding a purchaser, advertised a "a town order
for sale at a liberal discount." At a town meeting that occurred soon
after, the insult, thus publicly offered to the town, was the subject of
severe remark, and the meeting, highly indignant, despatched an
officer to command Master Bingham instantly, to appear and apolo-
gize for the oflfence. lie promptly accompanied the officer to Faneuil
Hall, and after the offence was formally stated to him by the chair-
man of the selectmen, he was called upon for his apology. Mr. B.,
nothing daunted, stretched himself to his full height, and, in a voice that
no one failed to hear, gave a brief history of his experience, with which
the citizens were, probably, unacquainted, and then concluded with these
words : " I have a family and need the money. I have done my part
of the engagement faithfully, and have no apology to make to those
who have failed to do theirs. All I can do is to promise, that, if the
town will punctually pay my salary in future, I will never advertise
their orders for sale again." The treasurer immediately slapped him
on the shoulder and said, Bingham, you are a good fellow; call at my
office after the meeting and I will give you the cash. Mr. B., had little
trouble after that in collecting what was due him for his services.*

Among the beneficial changes of the new system, was the addition
of twelve citizens to the board of selectmen, for the sole purpose of

* To the other instance of personal courage, which happened twenty years or more after-
ward, the writer was a witness. The government of the town had determined to break up
a large settlement of houses of ill-fame, and the accompanying haunts of vice, that had long
bsen a disgrace to the town, and an annoyance to all peaceable citizens in the neighborhood.
An active police officer, named Reed, had made several arrests, and was singled out by a des-
perate mob as the victim of their vengeance. This mob, armed with clubs and missiles of

QQ CALEB BINGHAM.

superintending the schools. A law authorizing this change had been
enacted by the legislature, mainly at the request of the metropolis ;
but the advantage expected from it was almost neutralized in Boston,
by the retention of the selectmen as ex-officio members of the school
committee ; the chairman of the former always presiding at the meet-
ings. Those acquainted with the history of Boston will recognize, in
the following list of the first school committee proper, an amount of
intellect and character rarely seen in our day.

John Lathrop, D. D., of the North Church.
Samuel West, D. D., of the West Church.
James Freeman, D. D., of the Stone Chapel.
N. Appleton, M, D., ^

Thomas Welch, M. D., > all distinguished physicians.
Aaron Dexter, M. D,, )

George Richards Minot, Judge and Historian of Massachusetts, after-
Christopher Gore, LL.D. [ward Governor.
Hon. Jonathan Mason, Jr., Senator.
Hon. William Tudor, Judge.
Hon. Thomas Dawes, Judge.

Not one of this first committee was a common man, but no one is
now living to witness the result of his labors. Their unanimity in
adopting the reform, and selecting Mr. Bingham to lead in the im-
provement, is no faint compliment to the rank and ability of their
teacher.

Allusion has been made to some of the alterations introduced by
the new system, but, perhaps, the state of education may be better
illustrated by an extract or two from the records. One regulation

every description, pursued Reed, who, running for his life, dashed into Mr. B's. yard for shel-
ter. Mr. B., opened the door to him, told him how to pass through the house and escape ; and
then went out to face the mob. He had no hat on, and his white hair and dignified personal
appearance, for a moment quieted the rioters. He seized the happy moment, and, standing
on an elevation where he was seen by the crowd that beset the house, he said in the powerful
voice, that he is said to have inherited from his father, " Fellow citizens, you are breaking the
laws, and I command you in the name of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to disperse.
I am a magistrate. " His family urged him not to venture out, for it would cost him his life ;
but he saved the officer, and dispersed the mob. in less time than it has required to record the
anecdote.

The personal appearance of Mr. Bingham, was favorable to such a demonstration. His
height was about six feet, and his frame well proportioned and well developed. His face was
pleasant, but rather short. His eyes were light blue, his nose short and rather sharp, his hair
was dressed with earlocks, powdered, and braided behind, exactly in the style of Washing-
ton s. He wore almost to the last, a cocked hat, black coat and small clothes, with a white
vest and stock, and black silk hose. In winter, he wore white topped boots, and in summer,
shoes with silver buckles. His appearance and manners were those of a gentleman ; he was
respectful to all ; affable, gentle, and free from any of the traits which are apt to cling to the
successful pedagogue. At the age of sixty, he began to stoop a little in consequence of disease
that principally aff^ected his head, and his nerves began to shake ; but though represented to
be feeble in his youth, there was no appearance of debility in manhood. He could dress him-
self and walk the room twenty-four hours before he died.

CALEB BINGHAM.

61

requires the \Yriting masters to teach " writing, arithmetic, and the
branches usually taucjht in town schools^ including vulgar and decimal
fractions." Another regulation required the reading masters to teach
"spelling, accent, and the reading of prose and verse, and to instruct
the children in English grammar, epistolary writing and composition."
"Boys and girls were to be admitted at seven years of age, if previ-
ously instructed in the woman schools,'' which, it will be recollected,
were all private schools, over which the committee had no control,
and to which those only who could pay were admitted.

The Latin school under Master William Hunt, was kept in a small,
square, brick building, which stood on a lot opposite the present City
Hall, in School street. The north reading school, was in Middle street,
and the north writing, in North Bennett street. The central reading
was in State street, and the south writing, was at the corner of West
and Tremont street, the south reading, being in Pleasant street. The
central writing, under Carter, is said, in the record, to be in Tremont
street. The north Latin school, that was discontinued, stood on a lot
by the side of the north writing school.

The books used in the reading schools were, the Holy Bible,
Webster's Spelling Book, Webster's Third Part, and the Young
Lady's Accidence. The Children's Friend and Morse's Geography
were allowed, not required; and " Nevvspapei*s were to be introduced,
occasionally, at the discretion of the masters." This is the first time*
that the writer ever saw newspapers required by a school committee,
but there can be no doubt that the regulation was the result of true
wisdom. The misfortune was, that the rule was entirely neglected, as
was that requiring composition to be taught in connection with Eng-
lish grammar. The probability is that, for twenty years, not a news-
paper was read in any school, nor a word written. The Latin school
was divided into four classes, and the books used were.

First Class. Second Class. Third Class. Fourth Class.

Cheever's Accidence. Clarke's Introduction, Csesar. VirgiL

Cordery. Ward's Latin Gram. Tully's Epist.or Offic's. Cicero's Orations.

Nomenclator. Eutropius. Ovid Metamor. Greek Testament,

.^sop, Latin and Eng. Selectee e Vet. Test. Virgil. Horace.

Ward's Latin Gram. Castalio's Dialogues. Greek Grammar. Homer.

or Eutropius. Garretson's Exercises. Making Latin from Gradus ad Parnassum.

King's Heathen Gods. Making Latin contin'd.

The writer remembers Master Hunt, as a frequent visitor at Mr.
Bingham's bookstore. The committee removed him after several
years' service under the new system, and the injustice of the removal
was the burden of his conversation. He taught private pupils several
years after he left the public service, was a venerable looking man,

* Comeuius did this two hundred years before. Ed.

62 CALEB BINGHAM.

and is well represented by his grand children, one of whom has been
distinguished as a teacher of the same school.

Furthermore, it was ordered that, in the writing schools, the chil-
dren "should begin to learn arithmetic at eleven years of age; that,
at twelve, they should be taught to make pens." Until eleven years
old, all the pupils did, in a whole forenoon or afternoon, was to write
one page of a copy book, not exceeding ten lines. When they be-
gan to cipher, it rarely happened that they performed more than two
sums in the simplest rules. These were set in the pupil's manuscript,
and the operation was there recorded by him. No printed book was
used. Such writing and ciphering, however, were too much for one
day, and boys who ciphered, only did so every other day. If it be asked,
how were the three hours of school time occupied ? The answer is,
in one of three ways, — in mischief; in play ; or in idleness. The pupils
were never taught to make their own pens, and it occupied the master
and usher two hours of every session to prepare them. The books were
generally prepared by them out of school hours. The introduction
of metallic pens, relieved the teachers from their worst drudgery, and
left them free to inspect the writing of their pupils, which was impos-
sible before.

In the reading schools, the course was for every child to read one
verse of the Bible, or a short paragraph of the Third Part. The master
heard the first and second, that is, the two highest classes, and the usher
heard the two lowest. While one class was reading, the other studied
the spelling lesson. The lesson was spelled by the scholars in turn,
so that the classes being large, each boy seldom spelled more
than one or two words. In grammar, the custom was to recite six
or more lines once a fortnight, and to go through the book three
times before any application of it was made to what was called pars-
ing. No geography was prepared for the schools until Mr. Bingham
left them. Morse's abridgment began to be a reading book about
the year 1800, and soon after, Mr. Bingham prejiared his little Cate-
chism, which was probably based upon it. When Mr. B's American
Preceptor was published, it displaced Webster's Third Part. His
Child's Companion superseded Webster's Spelling Book in the lower
classes, and the Columbian Orator, was the reading book of the upper
class, to the displacement of the Bible, which, instead of being read
by the children, was read by the reading masters as a religious exer-
cise, at the opening of school in the morning, and at its close in the
afternoon. The writing masters were not required to read or pray
for fifteen or twenty years after the great reform.*

* The above, the writer believes is a fair account of the system, wi»icli lias given Boston an

CALEB CINGHAM. g3

The Franklin Medals were introduced during the public service of
Mr. Bingham, but he never heartily approved of the influence thus
exerted ; for it was evident, he said, that only a very small portion of
the pupils had any hope of acquiring a medal, or made any eflbrt
to do so, while the disappointment of many who did endeavor,
caused him no little pain. It is to be hoped that the school commit-
tee will contrive to strip this well meant bequest of the great Bos-
tonian of its unequal and often injurious influence.

There were three reading masters ; Mr. Bingham was undoubtedly
the first, and the second in rank was Elisha Ticknor. This gentleman
was also from Connecticut, and a graduate of Dartmouth, and is sup-
posed to have been invited to Boston, to assist Mr. Bingham in his
private school. The writer well remembers him as a tall, thin, erect
and grave man, a deacon of the old South Church, and more stiff" and
ceremonious than his remote relative, Mr. Bingham. He married a
widow lady of some property, soon after he took the South Reading
School, and, becoming dissatisfied with the slender income of a pub-
lic teacher, he resigned his office at the end of five years, turned
grocer, and by frugality and strict attention to business acquired a
handsome property before his decease, which took place in 1827.

The third reading master was Samuel Cheney, who was teaching
in Tyngsborough, Mass., when he was appointed to the north school
in Boston. He had graduated at some college, but his letter of ap-
plication, now on the files of the school committee, indicates a very
low state of English scholarship. He did not give satisfaction, and
was dismissed in 1*793, although many parents of his pupils, and
several influential citizens, strove hard to indu6e the committee to re-
tain him.

The chief writing master was John Tileston. He had long been in
the public service, and by faithful attention to his narrow round of
duties, was retained, although destitute of energy and invention. He
was born at Braintree, near Boston, about 1738, and, when a boy, was
taken by Master Proctor, (deacon of the First Baptist Church in Bos-

enviable reputation throughout the world. It is evident that it must not be measured by what
education ought to be, but by what it had been. It is by no means certain that the schools of
Boston were any better than those of the country before 1790 ; for, although the Boston schools
were open the year round, while the country schools did not average six months, it is claimed
that as much was learned in the six months as in the twelve, and while the school age was
restricted to fourteen years in Boston, it was unlimited in the country, and girls as well as
boys were taught in less crowded schools. If it be said that Boston has maintained a high
rank in literature and mercantile enterprise, it may be also said, with truth, that the greater
number of her literary men, and most enterprising merchants, were not born or educated in
Boston. Of all the first set of teachers under the new system, not one was of Boston, and of
the many hundreds that have succeeded them, the writer can not call to mind a half dozen
Bostonians.

64 CALEB BINGHAM.

ton,) to be Lis apprentice. Before the Revolution, he became an usher,
and, at the death of Deacon Proctor, was appointed master. In this
office he continued till 1823, when, at the age of eighty-five, or there-
about, he was allowed a pension of six hundred dollars a year, and the
rank of master, without any school. This was the first case of a pen-
sion on the records of the town, and but one other case has since oc-
curred. How forcibly does this neglect of useful citizens contrast
with the practice that prevails in every civilized country, of pension-
ing soldiers, often the most worthless members of the community,
whose life, at best, is one continued warfare upon the true interests of
society, and at variance with the leading principles of the Gospel of
the Prince of Peace. Master Tileston was a very short and thick
man, of a fair and ruddy complexion, and always wore the horsehair
wig, bushy, but not curled, that was worn by the clergy of Boston,
until near the end of the last century. When young, some accident
by fire had crippled his right hand, and yet his penmanship was
elegant for the times. lie loved routine ; and probably, if he had
taught a school a century, he would never have improved any arrange-
ment of it. Printed arithmetics were not used in the Boston schools
till after the writer left them, and the custom was for the master to
write a problem or two in the manuscript of the pupil every other day.
No boy was allowed to cipher till he was eleven years old, and writ-
ing and ciphering were never performed on the same day. Master
Tileston had thus been taught by Master Proctor, and all the sums he
set for his pupils were copied exactly from his old manuscript. Any
boy could copy the work from the manuscript of any other further
advanced than himself and the writer never heard of any explanation
of any principle of arithmetic while he was at school. Indeed, the
pupils believed that the master could not do the sums he set for them,
and a story is told of the good old gentleman, which may not be true,
but which is so characteristic as to afford a very just idea of the course
of instruction, as well as of the simplicity of the superannuated peda-
gogue. It is said that a boy, who had done the sura set for him by
Master Tileston, carried it up, as usual, for examination. The old
gentleman, as usual, took out his manuscript, compared the slate with
it, and pronounced it wrong. The boy went to his seat and reviewed
his work, but finding no error in it, returned to the desk, and asked
Mr. Tileston, to be good enough to examine the work, for he could
find no error in it. This was too much to require of him. He
growled, as his habit was when displeased, but he compared the sums
again, and at last, with a triumphant smile, exclaimed, "see here,
you nurly (gnarly) wretch, you have got it, ' If four tons of hay cost

CALEB DINGIIAM. 65

SO much, wliat will seven tons cost ?" When it should be, " If four
tons of English liay cost so and so. Now go and do it all over
again." Whether this be true or not, there is no doubt of the truth
of the two following anecdotes, which are told more to show the state
of instruction in the schools, than to expose the incompetency of the
teacher, who was evidently retained from pity or affectionate regard,
long after his usefulness was at an end. Once, after the writer had
done the two sums in subtraction, which had been set in his manu-
script, being tired of idleness, and seeing the master at leisure, he
ventured to go up to the desk and ask the master to set him another
sum. This was a bold innovation, and the old gentleman considered
it nothing less, but, as the pupil was somewhat of a favorite, he only
growled as he took the manuscript, and said, "Uh, you nurly wretch,
you are never satisfied." Again, after the writer was apprenticed to
Caleb Bingham, Master Tileston called at the bookstore, and, out of
respect for the venerable man, the pupil wiped his pen on a rag that
hung by the desk for that purpose, and suspended his work. The old
gentleman approached the desk, and carefully raising the rag with his
thumb and forefinger, said, " What is this for ?" " To wipe the pen
on, sir, when we stop writing," said the respectful pupil. " Uh ! it
may be well enough," said he, "but Master Proctor had no such thing."
Master Tileston, always wiped out his pens with his little finger, and
then cleaned his finger on the white hairs just under his wig. His
model. Master Proctor, had been dead half a century, perhaps, but he
still lived in the routine that he had established. When will school
committees discover that it is incalculably cheaper to pension one
such deserving and faithful servant, than intellectually to starve a
whole generation of children.

James Carter, the master of the centre writing school, that was
connected with Mr. Bingham's reading school, was a different man.
He also had been a public teacher many years before the great change,
and was renowned for his elegant penmanship. Imperious in school,
he lived freely, and at least to the full extent of his means. Accus-
tomed to what was called good society, he had the free and easy man-
ners of his associates, and was not particularly fitted to mould the
manners of the young. He appears to have ruled the schools and the
committee until the change of systems, and he did not yield with a
good grace to that order of things which brought with it some re-
straint and more labor, while it made his office subordinate, in fact, to
the head of the reading school. He died, however, in the harness,
for be could not aftbrd to resign the salary allowed him although in-
adequate to his support. -g.

QQ CALEB BINGHAM.

The third writing master was John Vinall, who was born in Bos-
ton, and had been a teacher in Newburyport, seventeen years before
he obtained the south writing school in his native city. He was a
very unpopuhir man, and complaints, especially of coarseness of speech,
were made to the committee ; and, though he indignantly denied their
truth, the opposition continued until he resigned, March 28th, 1795.
He was tall, thin, always meanly dressed, when the writer became
acquainted with him, and his features pock-marked were very ugly, but
a long and familiar acquaintance with him leads the writer to say that,
though miserly in his habits, and having a doubtful reputation as a
justice of the peace, there was nothing in his language, or manners,
to indicate that there was any truth in the charges brought against
him as a teacher. He early purchased an estate on Beacon street,
that afterwards became very valuable ; and he was said to be useful as
a political agent to his neighbor, Governor Hancock. It may have
been so, but this would rather account for the prejudices against him,
than prove him an unprincipled man. In politics he was a Jefferso-
nian republican, and this was enough, in those days, to ruin the pros-
pects of any man who sought distinction in Boston. Mr. Vinall was
the only teacher besides Mr. Bingham, that ventured to publish a
book, and he composed an arithmetic, which never sold, and which,
though recommended to others by the school committee, seems never
to have been adopted for use in the Boston schools. lie died in
Boston about the time that Mr. Bingham did, leaving a son and two
very worthy unmarried daughters.

While a private teacher in Boston, Mr. Bingham had published a
small English grammar, which, being intended for his female pupjls,
he called " The Young Lady's Accidence^ or a short and easy Intro-
duction to English Grammar; designed principally for the use of
Young Learners^ more especially those of the Fair Sex, though proper
for either.''^ When the author entered the public service, his book
followed him. It was the first English grammar ever used in the
Boston schools, and was still in use there when the writer entered
them in 1801. It continued to be used until "An Abridgment of
Murray's Grammar, by a Teacher of Youth"* was substituted, and
the sale of the Accidence declined, until at the author's death in 181 Y,
it was no longer an object for any one to print it. It was a very small
book of 60 pages, and was probably only intended for an abstract of
principles to be more fully explained by the teacher. This was the second
American English grammar, Webster's having preceded it a year or
two. The British grammar, a better book than either, had been re-

• Asa Dullard, probably, the successor of Mr. Tickuor, at the South Reading School.

CALEB BINGHAM.

67

printed in 1784, and Dr. Lowtli's had been reprinted for the use of
Harvard College, but they were little known, and not at all used in
public or private schools.

Mr. Bingham and Noah Webster took advantage of the dearth of
school books at the revival of common schools, which followed the war
of Independence, and they iViirly divided the country between them.
Until their day, the only reading books used in the schools were the
Bible and psalter, with such meagre lessons as were found in the New
England Primer and the spelling books of Fenning, Moore, Dil worth
and Perry which were successively introduced before the Revolution,
but all superseded by Webster's or Bingham's soon after that event.
Perry's Sure Guide was much used, and died hard, after having un-
dergone a revision in the hands of Isaiah Thomas, Jr., a son of the
venerable printer of Worcester. The New England Primer never
deserved the name of a spelling book, but was probably valued and
used for the abridgment it contained of the assembly's catechism,
which was always formally taught in all the public schools of Massa-
chusetts, until toward the close of the eighteenth century. It was
disused in the Boston schools some years before it lost ground in the
rural districts ; but, even in Boston, it was retained in the private damo
schools for young children, as late as 1806. Spelling having been
left to the writing masters of Boston more than a century, it might
naturally be inferred that the graduates of the schools were all bad
spellers, but there is no appearance of any such deficiency in the
manuscripts that exist, and the probability is, that, on the introduc-
tion of new branches of study, spelling became neglected, and this
important and very difficult study never, probably, was in a worse
condition than it is at the present moment*

Our rivals both made reading and spelling books ; and the reading
books of Mr. Bingharn far outstripped those of Mr. Webster, but the
spelling book of the latter far distanced the Child's Companion of
Mr. Bingham, which was a smaller book, and treated rather as an
introduction to Webster's than a complete vocabulary. It was but
little used when Mr. Bingham died, and now, like the Young Lady's
Accidence, is merely a curiosity. The American Preceptor and Colum-
bian Orator of Mr. Bingham contain few original pieces by him, but
the selections were more lively than those of Webster, and better
adapted to the taste of the community, which was not over critical
or refined, and they held their ground against all competitors for at

'The writer has, in his hands, letters from more than five hundred school committee men,
and spelling exercises of more than five thousand teachers, male, and female, to corroborate
the opinion above expressed.

eg CALEB BINGHAM.

least a quarter of a century * The chief feature of Mr. Bingham's
two books, was their original dialogues. Who wrote those in the
American Preceptor is uncertain, but those in the Orator were mainly
written by David Everett, a Dartmouth graduate, who came to Bos-
ton, and establislied the Boston Patriot some years afterward. lie
was no poet, but, in sport, wrote for the Orator that little piece, "You'd
scarce expect one of my age, &c.," which has been the charm of the
you no: American orators for half a century.

When geography began to be read in our public schools, and class
books were read long before any lessons were recited or any maps
used, Mr. Bingham prepared the small " Astronomical and Geograph-
ical Catechism," based upon Dr. Morse's School Geography, which
was read occasionally by the highest class in the Boston reading-
schools. Many copies of the Catechism were sold annually, and,
meagre as it was, it was the only book used, and was recited literally,
without any explanation or illustration by teacher or pupil.

Mr. Bingham, in connection with his eldest daughter, published a
small volume of "Juvenile Letters," a collection of familiar epistles
between children, calculated to introduce them to the forms of letter-
writing and English composition. He also translated Atala, an Indian
tale by Chateaubriand, which is almost the only one of his works by
which his style of English composition can be judged. Mr. Bingham
was a good French scholar, and spoke that language fluently, but
where he learned it is unknown. The translation of Atala was well
executed, and several neat editions were printed and sold.

Mr. Bingham had a high reputation as a penman, and pupils came
from a distance to receive lessons of him. He never taught penman-
ship after he entered the public service, but he retained a love for the
art, and was often employed to open and ornament books of record,
and to write diplomas. When Jenkins, the writing professor, pub-
lished his system, Mr. Bingham did all the writing gratuitously.
Soon after Mr. Bingham left the school in 1796, he published a set of
copy slips, probably the first engraved slips ever published in America.
The coarse and fine copies were in separate books, the former being
engraNied from patterns of his own writing, and the latter from those
by the daughter before mentioned. They were both engraved by
Samuel Hill, one of the earliest Boston engravers, but, though well
doue for the times, they would not be much esteemed now as patterns.
Mr. Carter was far superior as a penman, but neither must be judged
by the taste that now prevails.

• When tho writer became their proprietor, they were little used, and he projected and
published that series known as the Pierpont Readers, which for years had a run at least
equal to their predecessors.

CALEB BINGHAM. gg

Mr. Bingliam published no other work that can be called original.
He republished an historical gi-ammar, making some slight additions
to adapt it to our schools, lie published two or three editions of
Sermons by Dr. Logan, a Scotch divine, and he edited an edition of
the Memoirs of Stephen Burroughs. A publisher in Albany, hearing
of his intimacy with the father of Stephen, the venerable pastor to
whose church Mr. Bingham joined himself while at college, proposed
to Mr. Bingham to edit an edition. Having more than doubts of the
utility of such books, Mr. Bingham endeavored to dissuade the pub-
lisher from reviving what was passing into oblivion ; but, when he
found that the edition would be printed at any rate, he consented to
supervise it, and inserted a few notes to explain circumstances, or to
nullify the evil influence he feared. These are all the literary enter-
prises in which Caleb Bingham ever engaged as editor or publisher,
and although they may seem mean by the side of some modern un-
dertakings, it must be recollected that, although he may have stood
second to Noah Webster, when they died, he long stood first in the
number of books published, and always stood first in regard to the num-
ber published by himself. Moreover, it may be said that not one of
Mr. Bingham's books proved a failure, while only one of Mr. Webster's,
the Spelling Book, proved successful. Of course this remark does not
include the Dictionary, which was published after the decease of Mr.
Bingham, and owes its success more to others than to the industrious
author.*

The success of Mr. Bingham's books, and th^ increase of vertigo
and headache, no doubt brought on by the confinement incident to
his vocation, induced him to resign his office in September, 1796, and
though he lived nearly twenty years afterward, he never resumed the
business of instruction in any form. He did not lose his interest in
schools, however, for he not only visited those of Boston, but those
of New York and other remote cities ; and his store was, for many
years, the head quarters of the Boston teachers. Brown who succeed-
ed Bingham ; Bullard who followed Ticknor ; Little, who, with a short
interval, when Crosby or Sleeper was master, was successor to Cheney ;

• It is an amusing circumstance, and shows the uncertainty of biographical notices, that tlie
excellent Dr. Allen, whose family was personally intimate with Mr. Bingham's, and who mar-
ried a danghterof President VVheelocIc, to whom Mr. Bingham had been a pupil, assistant and
amanuensis, in his Biographical Dictionary, improved edition, 1832, says of Mr. Bingham.
" He published an interesting narrative, entitled The Hunters, Young- Lady's Accidence,
1789, Epistolary Correspondence, the Columbian Orator." The " Epistolary Correspondence"
was the "Juvenile Letters" for children, and "The Hunters" was an anecdote of an accident
that happened to Hugh Holmes, and an Indian boy of Moor's school. Mr. Bingham, for his
amusement, wrote the story on a large slate, and the writer of this note copied it on paper,
drew one or two embellishments for it, and printed it as a picture book for children. It never
sold, although true, and very interesting. The style in which it was printed was a warning.

YO CALEB BINGHAM.

Snelling who followed Carter ; and Rufus Webb who succeeded Vi-
iiall, were all intimate with Mr. Bingham. The first set, also, kept
up their acquaintance, and, probably, the second great reform of the
schools originated at the book store, for to Elisha Ticknor, more than
to any man, Boston owes the free Primary Schools, which, in 1819,
superseded the little private schools, kept by women, in which the
children of both sexes, for nearly thirty years after the great reform,
were prepared to enter the reading and writing schools. Mr. Bing-
ham was a great advocate for these primary free schools, and the
counsellor whom Mr. Ticknor most highly esteemed ; but both of
the friends died before the schools were fully established.

As a bookseller, Mr. Bingham would not now be called enterprising.
He printed his own books, which were so salable that he procured
in exchange any thing else printed in the country. His sales of mis-
cellaneous books were very limited, and his stock in trade what would
uow be called small. His store. No. 44 Cornhill, was a single room,
not more than twenty by twenty-five feet, and most of the books
upon his shelves were there the whole period of the writer's appren-
ticeship. He preferred to let publishers print his books and pay him
a premium for the privilege ; and from this source he received annu-
ally six or eight hundred dollars as late as 1816. In the transaction
of his business he was perfectly just and liberal, but somewhat singu-
lar. This peculiarity consisted mainly in his unwillingness to incur
any debt, or to have any thing to do with banks. The writer was
seven years in his efnploy, and does not recollect ever to have seen a
note of hand signed by him. The moment he commenced business,
he felt the injustice of having an asking and a selling price, and he
adopted the one-price system and adhered to it through life. Indeed,
all the booksellers in Boston were induced, probably by him, to form
an association, and, for twenty years, they had uniform prices and
fixed rates of discount ; an example that stood alone, and that no
body of merchants at the present day could be persuaded to imitate.
Mr. Bingham served several of the fii-st years as secretary, the only
ofiicer they had.

The establishment of town libraries, to furnish suitable reading for
the young, was a favorite design of Mr. Bingham, and a better selec-
tion of books could generally be found at his store than elsewhere,
for this purpose. His advice, too, was relied on by town agents, and,
although the number of libraries sold was not great, he supplied a
goodly portion of them. When he wished to do something to evince
his deep attachment to the place of his nativity, in Janujiry, 1803, he
selected a library of one hundred and fifty valuable books, and pre-

CALEB BIXGHAM.

11

sented them to the town of Salisbury, for the use of all children from
nine to sixteen years of age. The donation was gratefully received
and diligently used. Trustees managed the library, and the town,
from time to time, made additions, till the volumes numbered five
hundred. This was done at a time when a town library was a nov-
elty, and the effect of this upon the citizens is thus described by
Judge Church in his centennial address, (1841.)

"At that time, when books, especially useful to youth, were com-
paratively scarce, this donation was of peculiar value, and gratefully
received by the town. It was a small beginning, but it infused into
the youthful population a new impulse, and a taste for reading, before
unknown, w^as soon discoverable amongst the young." A venerable
minister of the town attributed much of that intelligence, which he
claimed for the citizens of Salisbury, to the influence of their library ;
and the lady of a reverend librarian said with much feeling, " I recol-
lect the joy we girls felt at having a library of our own ; books to
read of our own. What happy times ! What friendly contests for
this or that book on delivery days ! The donor's memory was very
dear to us all, boys and girls, men, women, and children." Mr. Bing-
ham's letter, accompanying the donation, is almost an apology for the
liberty taken. lie says, " I well remember, when I was a boy, how
ardently I longed for the opportunity of reading, but had no access
to a library. It is more than probable that there are, at the present
time, in my native town, many children who possess the same desire,
and who are in the like unhappy predicament. This desire, I think
I have it in my power, in a small degree, to gratify ; and however
whimsical the project may appear to those who have not considered
the subject, I can not deny myself the pleasure of making the at-
tempt." He concludes as follows : " Should it so happen that the
books should be rejected, or there should be any disagreement, so
that the object in view is like to be defeated, please retain the books
till you hear further from me." This letter was written to his brother
Daniel.

In 1*793, before he was a bookseller, Caleb Bingham was the chief
agent in establishing the Boston library, which, until the recent move-
ment for a free library, was considered a most important institution.
It was not free, however, except so far as that any citizen, who could
afi'ord it, might purchase a share, for about twenty dollars, and be-
come a proprietor, paying an assessment of two or three dollars a
year, to meet the expenses and secure an annual addition of books.
Mr. Bingham had the initiatory meetings at his house, and officiated
gratuitously, as librarian for about two years.

72 CALEB BINGHAM.

This library now contains about eighteen thousand volumes of val-
uable books, in French and English, and the proprietors have always
been amongst the most intelligent and useful citizens of Boston.
The library room was always over the arch, in front of the old Monu-
ment in Franklin Place, but the building, which is valuable, and be-
longs to the proprietors, is about to be demolished.

'Mr. Bingham had some reputation as a singer, and took a leading
part in the musical exercises when Washington visited Boston. He
generally sat and sang with the choir wherever he worshipped. He
was a religious man from his youth up, but he disappointed the expec-
tation of his father's family when he opened a school instead of becom-
ing a minister of the gospel. His faith was that of the orthodox
congregatlonalists, and when that remarkable change came over the
churches of Boston, which made them all Unitarian, he united with
the few who remained true to their early belief, and endeavored to
restore the ancient faith of the New England churches. Park street
church was the result, and he was one of three who became respon-
sible for the price of the land on which that church is situated.* But
thouofh so attached to his faith that he left the church of Dr. Kirk-

o

land, who was remotely related to him, still, neither doctrines nor
forms could repress the natural kindness and gentleness of his dispo-
sition. He had true friends in every branch of the household of
faith, and all men were brethren, and equal in his eyes, not because
he was a republican in religion as well as in politics, but because he
was a sincere and humble Christian.

He was a kind man, of tender feelings, and ready for any act of philan-
thropy. His pupils, many of whom still survive, speak of him with the
greatest respect and affection. In the school-room, his discipline was
steady but not severe, and when the school committee required the read-
ing and writing masters to give their separate opinions in writing on the
subject of discipline, all, except Mr. Bingham, declared that corporal pun-
ishment was indispensable ; but even he was not sure that it could be en-
tirely dispensed with, " unless he could select his pupils.^* Three of
the masters, Carter, Vinall, and Cheney, were early complained of for
severity, notwithstanding the committee had enjoined upon them all
to exclude corporal punishment from the schools, and, in no case, ever
to inflict it upon females. The writer was present wlien Mr. Bing-
ham undertook to punish the colored house boy for repeated and pro-
voking misconduct. The boy, who was about ten years old, under-
stood his master too well, for, although the flagellation was inflicted

* The price was about thirty thousand dollars ; and the sureties, Mr. Calhoun, a Scotch-
man, William Thurston, a lawyer, and Caleb Bingham.

CALEB BINGHAM. ^3

with a slender rod, and a reluctant band, on a back well protected,
the rogue screamed most pitifully. lie did not sbed one tear, but
Mr. Bingham shed so many and suffered so much, that he soon con-
cluded that, as he could not bear any more, the boy could not, and
the offender was released upon just such a promise as he had made
and broken a hundred times before. This kindness of disposition, de-
void of such weakness, however, for the incident just related took
place after Mr. Bingham had suffered long from the painful disease
that shook his system, was especially shown, while he was a director
of the state prison, by his endeavors to reform the criminals, and to
procure employment for them after the expiration of their sentences.
He was particularly interested in the younger prisoners, and procured
the pardon of several on the promise to watch over and provide for
them. He loved his immediate family, and was strongly attached to
his kindred, however remote the degree, and many a mile did he go
out of his way to visit distant and poor relatives, with whom he gen-
erally left a substantial blessing. He had no enemies, but, his politics,
which were well known, though never offensively proclaimed, effect-
ually prevented him from attaining to any other distinction in Bos-
ton than that of an honest man. His politics, as has been hinted,
were those of the Jeffersonian school. He was a Republican when
the opposing party were called Federalists ; and few men of his party,
in Massachusetts, were distinguished for wealth, talents or influence.
His former position as a public teacher does not appear to have affect-
ed his standing ; but it was evident that after the first, and, perhaps,
the second race of teachers retired, the Boston teachers sank into a
subordinate class, and no longer claimed respectability on account of
their office. There was a falling off in quality, and nothing was done,
intellectually, to command the respect of the community. A quarter
of a century after the great reform, the association of teachers wished
to make a public demonstration, but it was difficult to find a teacher
who would attempt a public address, and that, finally dehvered, had
no claims to notice. For the first quarter of the present century we
do not find the public teachers taking any part in literary meetings,
or leading in any improvement, and it was not until the establish-
ment of the English High School, and the marriage of one or two
of the teachers into wealthy families, that an impulse was given to
the whole body, which has gone on increasing, although this numer-
ous and powerful body have not yet assumed the rank and influence
to which they ought to aspire. The great fault of the Boston sys-
tem and that of New England, is the control to which teachers are
subjected. It is well that a committee should watch over the general

74 CALEB BINGHAM.

interests of the schools ; but it has always paralyzed them to have
all the teachers subjected to any common plan, any fixed course of
instruction. When the committee are satisfied with the moral char-
acter, intellectual attainments, and aptness for teaching, of any mas-
ter, the responsibility should be laid upon hira ; liberty should be
given him to teach in his own way, and to alter and improve where he
thinks proper. This has never been done ; but all have been stretched
on the same bed, and cut down to the legal size, until the whole pro-
fession have been dwarfed, and an independent public teacher is a
prodigy. But to return from this digression. When Mr. Gerry, con-
trary to the course of politics in Massachusetts, was elected governor,
Mr. Bingham was appointed a director of the state prison, and so hu-
manely and prudently did he discharge the duties of his office that
he Avas allowed to retain it several years after his party went out of
power. Mr. Gerry also appointed him a justice of the peace; but he
never acted as a magistrate except in the one case of riot w^hich has
been mentioned. During the war of 1812-15, the president of the
United States appointed him an assessor of internal taxes for Massa-
chusetts, but Mr. Bingham declined the appointment. For many
years he was a candidate of his party, for the senate of the state, but,
in those days, there was no third party, and he was never elected,
though better qualified, probably, than any other man of his par-
ty in Boston, for any office in the gift of the people. The w^-iter
of these remarks was not of the same party as his master, but, as the
bookstore w^as the head quarters of the Kepublicans, he had an op-
portunity to study the character of the leading men, and he feels a
pleasure in bearing testimony to the perfect uprightness and disinter-
ested political integrity of Caleb Bingham.

As a scholar Mr. Bingham took a respectable rank. When he
graduated, the Latin valedictory was awarded to him. His class-
mates declare him to have been the best speaker in college, and, to
the last, he was an excellent reader. For two years or more he taught
Moor's school, in which youths were fitted for college exclusively.
He was thought worthy to conduct Phillips* Academy, and, in Bos-
ton, he sustained the highest reputation as a teacher. He was a
good French scholar, when French was not a common attainment.
His English style was more pure than is generally attained by pro-
found classical scholars, and his conversational powers were acknowl-
edged, his language being always free from affectation, barbarisms,
grammatical errors, and those inversions and involutions, that so often
corrupt the style of scholars who attend more to other languages
than to their own.

CALEB BINGHAM. 17^

In his home, Caleb Bingham was an amiable, contented, cheerful
man. The disease of which he died, dropsy of the brain, was proba-
bly induced at school, and troubled him more and more, until he was
seldom free from headache and vertigo. The autopsy, which was
conducted by his friend, the late Dr. George C. Shattuck, revealed an un-
usual decree of conjjestion, and led the witnesses to wonder that his
intellect had never been impaired. The only thing that seemed to
relieve him was travelling, and for many years he made long jour-
neys about twice a year. In one of these he went from Boston to
Niagara Falls, with his eldest daughter, in his own chaise. Bad as
the road was in 1806, he went from Albany to the Falls in seven
days and a half; and, while there, he measured the Fall by a line
dropped from Table Rock, and, allowing for the inclination of the
line and the shrinkage, the measurement did not differ essentially
from the more scientific results of later times. On his return, he vis-
ited Red Jacket, who always ad<lressed him by the French epithet
chanolne, which indicates the impression that his personal appearance
made upon that distinguished chieftain. But his journeys generally
terminated at the homestead in Salisbury. His native town occupied
a deep place in his affections. His father's farm was that delightful
spot between Washining and Washinee Lakes, and after the death
of his father, it was a great consolation to him to own it. The land
and the improvements cost him more than he could well afford, and
the necessity of curtailing the family expenses at home, led to some
unpleasant complaints akin to reproaches ; the farm having been pur-
chased contrary to the wish of his family, and carried on without
much regard to their advice. As an instance of his unsuccessful ag-
ricultural ef^rts, it may be mentioned that, when the speculation in
Merino sheep commenced, he purchased six at a hundred dollars each,
and after keeping them six or seven years, till the flock, pure and
mixed, was reckoned by many scores, if not by hundreds, the whole
were sold for about half the original outlay. Gentlemen farmers,
who live remote from their farms, know how to account for this.
Before his death, his books had become disused, and the copyrights
of little value, so that they, with his stock in trade, farm, and other
property, did not produce ten thousand dollars.

Mr. Bingham left a widow and two daughters. The widow sur-
vived him but three or four years. Sophia, the eldest daughter, was
the highly educated and accomplished wife of General Nathan Tow-
son, paymaster general of the United States army. She resided at
Washington, D. C, and bore no subordinate part in elevating and re-
fining the society of the capitol. She and her husband have both

*IQ CALEB BINGHAM.

died within a few years, leaving an only daughter, who married Lieut.
Caldwell, late of the United States Army, and grandson of her
mother's only sister. The second daughter of Mr. Bingham is still
living and unmarried.

Notwithstanding his unremitted suffering, Mr. Bingham was a
cheerful man, ready to smile and to enjoy the innocent pleasures
which nature and society spread around him. His affability made
him welcome everywhere, and his conversation, perfectly free from
egotism and pedantry, was always pure, as well as interesting and in-
structive. The writer was in his family at least seven years, and never
heard a profane or indelicate expression, or any thing that approached
it, j^roceeding from his mouth ; he wishes this example was more
generally folloAved by teachers and those who claim to be gentlemen.
That the tone of Mr. Bingham's mind was cheerful, appears evident
from his compilations, which are lively, compared with many others
even of the present day. The introduction of familiar dialogues,
mostly original, -was peculiar to him. For these he was chiefly in-
debted, as has been said, to David Everett, a Dartmouth graduate,
who resided in Boston, and edited the Boston Patriot, in which en-
terprise Mr. Bingham acted as agent for William Gray, Jonathan
Harris, Thomas Melville, Aaron Hill, Samuel Brown, James Prince,
Gen. H. Dearborn, and Gen. Wm. King, who, with the exception of
Benjamin and Jonathan Austin, were long the only Republican lead-
ers in Boston. The two Austins were attached to the Chronicle,
which it was the intention of the Patriot to rival, if not supersede.
Both papers were afterwards ingul plied in the Daily Advertiser, once
their most inveterate political opponent. Mr. Bingham wrote little or
nothing for his reading books, and this probably through modesty,
rather than any lack of ability. The moral character of Mr. Bing-
ham's school books, and the decided stand they took in opposition to
slavery, even at that early day, speak loudly and well for his princi-
ples as a Christian and a sincere republican. His remarks were often
playful and witty, never severe or uncharitable. A sort of quiet
humor, tempered by the spirit of kindness, often appeared in his con-
duct and conversation and compelled his hearers to smile. The wri-
ter may be pardoned, if, to illustrate this peculiarity of his venerated
master, he relates a circumstance that happened in his presence, not
many years before the decease of Mr. Bingham. Something had cor-
rupted the water of the well attached to the house, and the inmates
agreed, one and all, to pump it dry, each pumping a large tubful in
turn. Mr. Bingham being the eldest, began just at nightfall, when
nothing was distinctly visible in the pump-room. He was so long in

CALEB BINGHAM. ^^^^

filling the tub, that his wife began to joke at his expense, saying,
among other things, that she could fill it in half the time. When it
was full, and her turn came, Mr. Bingham turned out the water, and,
unperceived by her, trod out the bottom of the tub. The sink was so
far below the level of the floor that the bottom of the tub could not
easily be felt, and Mi-s. Bingham, conscious of all she had said, began
to pump with alarming vigor. When, somewhat fatigued, she stooped
and felt to ascertain how high the water had risen in the tub, but not
feeling it, and unwilUng to appear to flag, she went at it again with
desperate earnestness, stooping ever and anon to seek encouragement
in the rising of the innocent fluid. She pumped long, but exhausted
her strength before the water failed. She bore the joke very well, but
not so well as her husband and the rest of us did.

For two or three years previous to his death, Mr. Bingham paid
less and less attention to business. The pain in his head was always
present and often very intense, and it was a painful circumstance to
us all, that, as he drew near to the shadowy vale, he could find no
comforting staff in the faith in which he had always walked. His
constant fear was that he should be a castaway, and a deep feeling of
personal demerit seemed to add untold weight to his physical debihty.
The encouragement of his friends only seemed to add to his distress,
and when the writer of this sketch remarked to him that " if he had
no hope in death there was no hope for any one," he reproved the
speaker for supposing that he had any claims to merit, and began
plaintively to sing his favorite hymn :

*' God of my life, look gently down,
Behold the pains I feel ;
But I am dumb before thy throne,
Nor dare dispute thy will."

Happily for all concerned, the darkness began to disperse a day or
two before he died ; and when death came, he was no longer to him
the King of Terrors. He died in peace as he had always tried to live,
and the last duties were performed by the writer and Hiram Bing-
ham, then a student at Andover, and providentially on a visit to the
family. This event took place on the Lord's day morning, April 6th,
1817, and the body was afterwards deposited in the family tomb of
his wife, on Copp's Hill, at the north part of Boston.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT AS A TEACHER.

BY DENISON OLMBTED, LL. D.
Professor of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy in Yale College.

More than forty )'ears have now elapsed since the Rev. Timothy
Dwight, D. D., President of Yale College, closed his earthly labors ;
but there still survive numbers of his former pupils, who are never
weary of quoting his authority to the youth of the present genera-
tion, or of expressing their unbounded admiration of his character as
a Teacher. Numerous memoirs of President Dwight have been pub-
lished, and high encomiums have been passed upon him as an in-
structor and governor of youth. In the present article, my views are
more limited. I do not propose to write his biography, but to analyze,
more fully than has hitherto been done, his character as a teacher ;
to inquire what were the elements that were combined in him to form
so exalted a model ; and to explain his method of teaching, or mode
of conducting, practically, the education of youth.

It was my good fortune to come under the instruction of President
Dwight when he was at his culminating point. The class of 1813,
to which I belonged, was the last, or last but one, which he taught
before his health began to decline ; and he died in January, 1817, after
great sufferings, protracted through the two preceding years. But
during the senior year of the class of 1813, nothing could exceed the
vigor of mind and body which he exhibited, and his energies were
put forth with unequalled power and zeal in our instruction. He was
then a little turned of sixty, but entered into every duty with untiring
industry, and unabated vigor. It was a mystery to us how he could
feel so deep an interest in going over ground, from day to day, which
we well knew must have been reiterated successively for many pre-
vious years. I think, however, we shall be able to clear up this mys-
tery, as we analyze more fully the peculiar characteristics of his
mind and heart. In the autumn of 1815, I entered upon the office
of Tutor, and for a year and a half observed him in the government,
as I had before known him chiefly in the instruction, of the college.
From these favored opportunities of being personally acquainted with
the President, and from having been near him during his last sickness,

TIMOTHY DVVIGIIT. tjg

and at the time of his death, I hope I may, without impropriety,
speak often from my own recollections. This, I suppose, will be
thought more allowable, since the number of his pupils who still sur-
vive are dwindled to a small remnant, and will soon have passed
away.

It is, we have said, the main object of this article to portray the
character of President Dwight as a teacher; but since every quality
of his mind and heart helped to form that character, it is essential to
the full development of our subject, to review, briefly, his peculiar in-
tellectual and moral constitution, which we shall endeavor to show to
have been singularly adapted to form the great teacher. We shall
also pass in review his course of life, previous to his entering on the
presidency of Yale College, and show how every thing contributed to
qualify him for that exalted station.

It can not be doubted that Dr. Dwight possessed by nature one of
the highest order of minds ; a mind in which the faculties were all
great, and all in harmonious proportion. It afforded one of the
finest examples I have known of the "well-balanced mind." Genius
is often characterized by the great predominance of some individual
faculty, as an extraordinary memory, or a remarkable mechanical
talent, while the other mental powers are quite ordinary, and even
sometimes deficient. One has a vivid imagination, but has little
taste or talent for scientific truth. He may be a poet, but can hardly
be a philosopher. Another has a mighty intellect, but is destitute of
a sense of the sublime and beautiful, in nature and art. He may be
a mathematician, but can hardly be a poet or an artist. It is the
union of intellect and imagination, both strong and in due proportion,
that constitutes the well-balanced mind. * In an instructor of youth,
no quality is more valuable than this ; and if we analyze carefully the
mental and moral constitution of President Dwight, we shall find
unequivocal marks of the happiest union of all these noble elements.
First, let us view him as a man of intellect. From infancy he
evinced great aptness to learn. Under the guidance of a mother who
was among the most distinguished of her sex for strength and culti-
vation, (daughter of the great President Edwards,) the nursery itself
was his earliest school-room. She began to instruct him almost as
soon as he was able to speak ; and such was his eagerness, as well as
his capacity for improvement, that he learned the alphabet at a single
lesson, and before he was four years old was able to read the Bible
with ease and correctness. A great proportion of the instruction
■which he received before he was six years old, was at home with his
mother. Twice every day she beard him repeat his lesson. When

30 TIMOTHY D WIGHT.

this was recited, Le was permitted to read sucli books as he chose, un-
til the limited period was expired. During these intervals he often
read over the historical parts of the Bible, and gave an account of
them to his mother. So deep and distinct were the impressions which
these narrations then made upon his mind, that their minutest incidents
were indelibly fixed upon his memory.* At the age of six, he was
sent to the grammar school, where he early began to importune his
father to permit him to study Latin. This was denied, from an im-
pression that he was too young to profit by studies of that descrip-
tion ; and the master was charged not to suffer him to engage in
them. It was soon found to be in vain to prohibit him ; his zeal
was too great to be controlled. Not owning the necessary books, ho
availed himself of the opportunity, when the elder boys were at play,
to borrow theirs ; and, in this way, without the father's knowledge or
the master's consent, he studied through the Latin grammar twice.
"When the master discovered the progress he hr ^ tnade, he applied
earnestly to his father, and finally obtained a relucl^ consent that he
might proceed, though every effort short of compulsion was used to
discourage him. lie pursued the study of the languages with great
alacrity, and would have been prepared for admission into college at
eight years of age, had not a discontinuance of the school interrupted
his progress, and rendered it necessary for him to be taken home, and
placed again under the instruction of his mother.f Throughout the
subsequent course of his academic education, and in all his future
life, he evinced the same extraordinary aptness to learn.

Power of apjylication was another trait which indicated that his
was one of the higher order of minds. The President himself thought
so highly of this feature as fharacteristic of a superior mind, that it
was a favorite saying of his that " genius is nothing but the power
of application." In his own case, this power was exhibited in its
highest intensity, first in the school boy, then in the college student,
and afterward in the professional man. When engaged in the com-
position of sermons, or any other literary performance, not only did
the conversation of those around him not interrupt his course of think-
ing, but, while waiting for his amanuensis to finish the sentence which
he had bust dictated, he would spend the interval in conversing with
his family or his friends, without the least embarrassment, delay, or
confusion of thought. His mind took such firm hold of the subject
which principally occupied it, that no ordinary force could separate it
from its grasp. He was always conscious of the exact progress he
had made in every subject. When company or any other occurrence

♦ Memoir prefixed tis Dwight's ''Thtnlngy " * Memoir.

TIMOTHY DVVIGHT. g,

compelled bini to break off suddenly, it would sometimes happen
that he did not return to his employment until after the expiration of
several days. On resuming his labors, all he required of his amanu-
ensis was to read the last word or clause that had been written, and
he instantly would proceed to dictate, as if no interruption had oc-
curred. In several instances he was compelled to dictate a letter at
the same time that he was dictating a sermon. In one instance, a
pressing necessity obliged him to dictate three letters at the same
time. Each of the amanuenses was fully occupied, and the letters
required no correction.*

The power of retaining what he had once learned. President D wight
possessed in an equally remarkable degree. The art of methodizing,
as he asserted, lay at the foundation of this power ; and no man, it is
believed, ever availed himself more fully of the advantages of this art.
His own acquisitions were laid up 'in separate compartments of the
mind, hke the wares of a merchant on his shelves, and he could, with
equal readiness, lay his hand on his mental stores, and bring them
out at a moment's warning. It was his practice, after short intervals,
perhaps every evening, to distribute his new acquisitions in a manner
like that of a compositor in restoring his types to their appropriate
cells. It was an evidence of the vigor with which his own thoughts
were conceived that, when once digested into the form of a discourse
or an essay, and methodically arranged, he never forgot them. A
sermon composed, but not written, and laid up in his mind, was ready
to be summoned into use at any future time, and could be recalled,
after a long interval, with hardly the loss of an idea that entered into
its original structure. For a great portion of his life, from his youth
upward, he was unable to use his eyes for reading or writing. To a
mind less given to meditation, or less eager for knowledge, this loss
might have been fatal to aspirations after high intellectual attain-
ments ; but to him, perhaps, it was hardly a misfortune, urging him, as
it did, to cultivate to their highest degrees of perfection the powers of
reflection and the art of methodizing. But while we may justly as-
cribe to these aids much influence, yet it can hardly be doubted that
he possessed by nature unusual strength and tenacity of memoiy, as
was evinced in childhood by his learning the alphabet at a single
lesson, and in youth by the rapidity with which he acquired knowl-
edge, and throughout his life by the unfailing certainty with which
he retained what he had once learned.

Intense love of knowledge^ another characteristic of great minds,
was also exhibited by President Dwight in its highest degree. The

* Memoir.
F

82 TIMOTHY DVVIGHT.

ardor with which he sought for it, in every useful form, might be
compared to that of the miser for gold, so far as it was the original
bent of his mind ; but in regard to the high uses he alwaj^s had in
view, as a minister of the gospel, and as a teacher, it more resembled
the effort of the philanthropist to acquire wealth, in order that he
may relieve want, and save the souls of men. This universal thirst
for knowledge led him to imbibe it from every sou|"ce. Hence the
variety and extent of his knowledge on every point that became the
subject of discussion, or the topic of conversation, amazed every body.
One who had attended on his instructions during the senior year, and
had often admired his inexhaustible stores of information on the
highest subjects of education, finding him equally at home in theology
and ethics, in natural philosophy and geography, in history and sta-
tistics, in poetry and philology, would have his admiration heightened,
if he chanced to visit him, as it was my good fortune to do, in his
garden, and heard him discourse on gardening and the cultivation of
fruit trees. This unbounded love of knowledge, in every form, at-
tended as it was by a due estimate of the relative value of each kind,
fulfilled one of the highest requisites for the President of a college,
both as it fitted him to appreciate the importance of all the separate
departments of instruction, respectively, and as it prepared him to
impart to those under his immediate instruction a boundless variety
of useful information.

The reasoning powers of President Dwight were such as became a
mind of the highest order. His sermons and other published works
aflford evidence of this ; but his pupils received a still stronger im-
pression of his powers of argument in the recitation room, particu-
larly in his decisions of questions debated before him, where a course
of reasoning was conducted with every advantage which could be de-
rived from an array of all the most important facts that bore upon the
case, from great felicity of illustration, from the most lucid arrange-
ment, and from the severest logic.

Such were the leading characteristics of President Dwight as a man
of intellect, each of which, it will readily be perceived, had a most im-
portant bearing on the character which it is our main purpose to de-
lineate, namely, that of the great teacher. Next, let us view him as
a man of imagination. It is well known that in early life Dr. Dwight
figured as a poet. Indeed, his " Conquest of Canaan^ a sacred epic
poem, in eleven books, written before he was twenty years of age,
evinced a strong native bent for works of imagination. A disserta-
tion, delivered at the public commencement of Yale College, on taking
his master's degree, on the ^^History^ Eloquence^ and Poetry of the

TIMOTHY DWIGHT. go

Bihle^'' was received with extraordinary fav;or. A copy was immedi-
ately requested for the press, and it was afterward republished, both
in this country and in Europe. His patriotic songs, composed during
the revolutionary war, some of which were great favorites with the
army; his '•''Greenfield Hill,^' published during his residence at that
place; and his hymns, which are still sung with delight in our sacred
choii-s, afford the most satisfactory evidence that he was a man of
lofty imagination as well as of profound intellect.

About the year 1770, commenced a great era in the history of the
study of polite literature in Yale College, — an era initiated by four
remarkable geniuses, Trumbull, Dwight, Humphreys, and Barlow.
Trumbull was of the class of 1767, Dwight of the class of '69, Hum-
phreys of the class of '71, and Barlow of the class of '78. Trum-
bull and Dwight were colleague tutors, and a congeniality of taste
for classical studies and the muses produced a strong intimacy be-
tween them. Humphreys and Barlow, though a little later, fell into
the same circle, and cultivated with the others the belles lettres studies.
Trumbull's ^'■M''Fin(jaV' justly acquired for him a celebrity above that
of the others ; but tliey each and all contributed to create and diffuse
a taste for elegant literature among their countrymen, and especially
in Tale College. Previous to that period, after the college had been
in operation full seventy years, no attention was paid to English litera-
ture. The course of studies consisted of the dead languages, mathe-
matics, syllogistic logic, and scholastic theology. The style of com-
position, even of the ofiBcers of the college, was stiff and pedantic,
and savored of the quaintness of the old theologians. The college
had never produced a single poet, or an elegant writer.* The study
of rhetoric had till then been almost entirely neglected. Through
the influence of three contemporary tutors, Howe, Trumbull, and
Dwight, a taste for those pursuits was excited, and the art of speak-
ing began, for the first time in the history of the college, to be culti-
vated. Dwight, especially, both by his example and his instructions,
produced a great reform in the style of writing and speaking. He
delivered to the students a series of lectures on style and composition,
on a plan very similar to that contained in Blair's lectures, which
were not published until a considerable time afterward.

Of the constellation of poets which arose simultaneously at this
period, Trumbull, no doubt, was the principal star. But several cir-
cumstances contributed, at the time of the publication of Dwight's
''^Conquest of Canaan^'' to render it less popular than it deserved to
be. The country contained but few persons of cultivated imagina-

* Governor Livingston, of New Jersey, of tlie class of 1741, ought, perliaps, to be excepted.

84 TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

tion, and few lovers of saared poetry especially. There was, in fact,
among our leading men, in civil life particularly, a strong bias toward
infidelity. Moreover, on literary as on otlier subjects, the United
States had not, until a much later period, begun to exercise for her-
self an independent judgment, but took her lead from the decisions
of the British press ; and it was long the practice of British critics to
treat every literary effort of Americans with contempt. Hence a
strong prejudice was imbibed against the poetical merit of the "6'on-
qucst of Canaan" on its first publication ; and this sentiment became
hereditary, and has descended to the present day. Even now every
body condemns, while nobody reads, the ^^ Conquest of Canaan.''*
Having myself attentively read it more than once, I feel authorized to
claim that, whatever blemishes it may have in some nice points of
taste, it affords abundant evidence of a vivid imagination, gi-eat facility
in versifying, and a high power of appreciating the sublime in senti-
ment, and the beautiful in nature and art. Were it my purpose to
criticise this neglected poem, I should insist upon the poetical merit
of many individual passages; but all I propose at present, is to view
President Dwight as a man of imagination, in contradistinction to the
man of mere intellect. Of this element in his character, as forming
a part of a well-balanced mind, and one of the highest order of minds,
I feel safe in claiming his poetry as affording abundant evidence.
Were further proof necessary, I might adduce his fondness for natural
scenery, and his delight in ornamental gardening. A warm imagina-
tion is obvious enough in his prose writings, and is even recognized
in his sermons, especially where the subject admits of figurative lan-
guage and flights of fancy. It is not, however, inconsistent with our
views of what constitutes the well-balanced mind, to admit that, in
the mental constitution of President Dwight, the intellect greatly pre-
ponderated over the imagination.

But it will be proper, secondly, to estimate the moral no less than the
mental constitution of President Dwight, in its bearing upon the charac-
ter of the great teacher. It was not until he had reached the age of
twenty-two years, while he was Tutor in college, that he made a public
profession of religion ; but the basis of his moral character was laid
in early childhood, by the influence and counsels of his gifted mother.
" She taught him," says his biographer, " from the very dawn of his
reason, to fear God, and keep his commandments ; to be conscien-
tiously just, kind, affectionate, charitable, and forgiving ; to preserve,
on all occasions, the most sacred regard to truth ; and to relieve the
distresses and supply the wants of the poor and unfortunate. She
aimed, at a very early period, to enlighten his conscience, to make

TIMOTHY D WIGHT. ge

him afraid to sin, and to teach him to hope for pardon only throu*->'h
the righteousness of Christ. The impressions thus made upon his
mind in infancy were never effaced." He seemed to possess an innate
love of truth, which exhibited itself to his pupils in what sometimes
appeared to them an almost over nicety in regard to all the minute
and exact circumstances attending the facts on which his statements
were made, and in his particularity in mentioning his authorities when
the facts were derived from the statements of others. "Tell truth to
a hair's breadth," was a precept which he ever enjoined on his pupils.

President Dwight was also a man of warm attachments and most
tender sympathies. Nothing could exceed the strength of his do-
mestic affections. But his heart was too large to confine its exercises
to the family circle. The same kind aftection glowed, in proportion-
ate measure, toward his pupils, and toward numerous private friends
whom he had bound to himself in every stage of life. When they
\vere afflicted, he was moved to tears ; when they were prosperous, ho
shared in their joy. I remember an instance of his tenderness on the
occasion of the death of one of the Tutors, Mr. Mills Day. The Presi-
dent was absent at an ecclesiastical meeting, returning a few hours
after his death. As he came into the chapel to attend evening prayeis,
and passed by the seat where Mr. Day usually sat, his countenance
changed, and liis tears began to flow. In reading the Bible before
prayers, his voice was tremulous ; and when he came, in the course of
his prayer, to allude to the mournful event, he was so overcome that
his voice nearly failed him, and his cheeks were wet with tears. In
a funeral prayer at the house of a friend, who had lost a son of much
promise, he was equally overcome. Indeed, it was not uncommon
for him to betray deep emotion in the recitation room, when relating
an instance of sufiering or sorrow. Above all this native tenderness,
ruled the most expansive benevolence, — the benevolence of the gos-
pel,— embracing within its boundless sphere every thing susceptible
of happiness or misery, and ever yearning for the promotion among
men of freedom, knowledge, happiness, and pure religion.

Such was the intellectual, and such the moral constitution which
lay at the foundation of that character, which the w^iole education or
course of life of President Dwight helped to mould into the great
teacher. Let us therefore, thirdly, pass in review his peculiar mode
of life, or education^ so far as it contributed to form and perfect that
character.

The manner in which he himself was taught, from infancy, by a
mother so singularly qualified to direct the early education of a child
of genius, was ever present to his mind as a model. He was almost

86 TIMOTHY D WIGHT.

born a teaclier, for I once hoard his sister relate tliat, wlien only four
years old, he was found in a retired place teaching a company of lit-
tle boys lessons from the Bible. His father was an educated man,
but the cares of business called him so much from home that the care
and instruction of the children devolved chiefly on the mother. His
house, however, was the resort of much company of the most elevated
class, and their convei-sation inspired our young scholar with the love
of general knowledge, and every fragment of valuable information was
treasured up and never lost. These opportunities helped to form his
taste for those topics which enter into intelligent conversation, such
as public affairs, and the reigning matters of discussion of the day.
Here, perhaps, he first caught the inspiration which in after years
animated his own love of intelligent conversation, which he ever named
among his highest sources of enjoyment. It was all the recreation
he needed from severe study ; and of all his powers those of conver-
sation were among the most extraordinary. He entered college at
thirteen, having made acquisitions considerably in advance of those re-
quired at that time for admission. For the first two years of his col-
lege life, the institution was in an unsettled state, with its study and
discipline much impaired, and he always regarded this period of his
education as almost lost, having contracted a fondness for games and
other idle amusements ; but, through the influence of a wise and zeal-
ous tutor, he was roused to nobler aspirations. At the beginning of
his junior year, being fifteen years old, he engaged in his studies with
excessive application, extending them into regions far beyond the
college curriculum. At the close of his academic course, the Presi-
dent sent for Dwight and Strong,* and informed them that in view
of the officers of the college they were at the head of the class, and
equally deserving of the highest honor ; but, as Strong was the elder
of the two, it would be given to him at that time, and to Dwight on
tahinij his master's degree.

He had no sooner completed his college course than he entered at
once on the life of a teacher, at the early age of seventeen, a profes-
sion which he pursued with but little interruption for fifty years. His
first essay was at a grammar school, at New Haven, which he kept for
two years with great success, securing the strongest attachment of the
pupils, and the highest approbation of their parents. During these
two years he made great advancement in literature and science,
dividing every day according to an exact method, of which six hours
were spent in school, and eight hours in the severest application to
!*tudy, leaving only ten hours for all other purposes. His studies

*The late Rev. Nathan Strong, D. D., of Hartford.

TIMOTHY D WIGHT. gy

embraced a wide range of subjects, scientific as well as literary, com-
prehending several branches then scarcely known in this country,
among which were the Calculus and Newton's Principia. But his
talents, as an instructor, met with a more appropriate field in the situa-
tion of Tutor in Yale College, to which place he was elected in Sep-
tember, IVYI, being then past nineteen years of age. The period of
his tutorship continued for six years, and he ever afterward referred
to it as a most important epoch of his life. Here his great powers
of teaching were fully developed. "When he entered upon the ofiice,
more than half the members of his class were older than himself;
and the freshman who waited on him was thirty-two years of age.
Notwithstanding a circumstance generally so disadvantageous, he pro-
ceeded in the discharge of his official duties with firnmess and assi-
duity ; and in a short time gained a reputation for skill in the govern-
ment and instruction of his class, rarely known in the former expe-
rience of the college."* We have already adverted to the agency
which he and his associate instructors, especially Howe and Trumbull,
exerted in inspiring a new taste for the studies of eloquence and polite
literature. The ''^Conquest of Canaan,^- was one of the fruits of this
period, having been commenced in iVYl, when he was only nineteen
years of age, and finished in 1774, at the age of twenty-two.

The first class which he instructed graduated in 1775 ; the year be-
fore the Declaration of Independence. "At that time he delivered a
valedictory address, every where sparkling indeed with brilliant im-
agery, but every where, also, fraught with strong thoughts and noble
conceptions. In two points of view it deserves notice. It unfolds to
his pupils the duty of fixing on a very high standard of character, as
intelligent and as moral beings, in a manner which proves at once
that this was literally the rule which governed his own conduct, and
that he was admirably qualified to influence others to adopt it. It
also communicates to them views of the growth and ultimate import-
ance of this country, which were at once new, noble, and prophetic.

"In March, 1777, he was married to Miss Mary Woolsey, the
daughter of Benjamin Woolsey, Esq., of Long Island, the class-mate,
room-mate, and intimate friend of his father. They had eight sons,
of whom six survived their father.f

"In May, 1777, the college was broken up. The students left New-
Haven at the commencement of the vacation, and pursued their
studies, during the summer, under their respective Tutors, in places

* Memoir.

t Two only still survive : James Dwight, Esq., of New Haven, and Rev. William T. Dwight.
D. D., of Portland, Me.

88 TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

less exposed to the sudden incursions of the enemy. Mr. Dwight re-
tired with his class to Weathersfield, and remained with them till
September. Early in June, he was licensed as a preacher, and, be-
sides instructing his class, he supplied the pulpit of the neighboring
village of Kensington. It being understood that the existing head of
the college would relinquish his connection with it, the students, as a
body, drew up and signed a petition to the Corporation, that Mr.
Dwight might be elected to the Presidency. This evinced an extra-
ordinary respect for his character as a teacher, being then only twenty-
five years of age. It was owing to his own interference that the ap-
plication was not formally made." *

The country was now in the midst of the revolutionary war.
Eager to have some part in the pubhc service, Mr. Dwight accepted
the appointment of chaplain to General Parsons' brigade, which was
part of General Putnam's division in the army of the United States.
He sedulously devoted himself to his appropriate duties. The troops
who composed the brigade were mostly Connecticut farmers ; men
•who had been religiously educated, and who were willing to listen to
the truths of the gospel even in a camp. On the Sabbath they heard
him with profound attention. During the week they beheld him ex-
erting himself, as far as lay in his power, to instruct them in morals
and religion. Several of his discourses delivered to the whole army,
owing partly to their intrinsic merit, and partly to the feelings of the
times, gained him high reputation with the American public. He
also wrote several patriotic songs, which were universally popular.
His connection with the army enabled him to form an acquaintance
with many officers of distinction, and among them he had the satis-
faction to rank the Commander-in-Chief. That great man honored
him with flattering attentions. Mr. Dwight ever remembered his
kindness with lively gratitude, and entertained for his character and
services, military and civil, the highest respect and veneration.f His
experience in this situation was by no means fruitless in reference to
his subsequent life as a teacher. The examples of dignified manners
with which he had been conversant among the officers of the army,
especially in the person of Washington, contributed, no doubt, to the
formation of his own manners and address, so much more courtly
than usually belong to academic men or recluse scholars, and the
wisdom and prudence which were so fully set before him in the coun-
cils of the Father of his Country, had their influence upon his own
administration as President of Yale College. His pupils can not fail
to remember how often he drew his illustrations and arguments from
♦Memoir. tib.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT. gg

tlie observations he had made, and the experience he had gained,
while serving as chaplain in the army.

The occasion of his leaving the army was one that subjected him
to new and unexpected trials. His father was removed by death,
while on a business tour in a distant part of the country, leaving a
widow and thirteen children, of whom he was the eldest. On him
devolved the interesting but self-denying duty of devoting himself to
the aid of his mother, in supporting and educating his younger
brothers and sisters, of whom he was constituted the guardian. On
receiving intelligence of his father's death, he immediately removed
to Northampton, where the family resided, and entered on the duties
providentially assigned to him, with the greatest promptitude and
cheerfulness. " In this situation (says his biographer,) he passed five
years of the most interesting period of his life ; performing in an ex-
emplary manner the offices of a son and a brother, and of a guardian
to the younger children. Here he was emphatically the staff and
stay of the family. The government and education of the children,
as well as the daily provision for their wants, depended almost exclu-
sively on his exertions. The elder as well as the younger were com-
mitted to his care, and loved and obeyed him as a father. The filial
afiection and dutiful respect and obedience which he exhibited toward
his mother, and the more than fraternal kindness with which he
watched over the well-being of his brothers and sisters, deserve the
most honorable remembrance. To accomplish the object, he post-
poned his own establishment for life, and a provision for his family.
To accomplish it, though destitute of property, he relinquished in
their favor his ow^n proportion of the family estate, and labored con-
stantly for five years, with a diligence and alacrity rarely exemplified.
His mother ever acknowledged, in language of eloquent afibction and
gratitude, his kindness, faithfulness, and honorable generosity to her
and to her children. The respect which she felt and manifested to-
ward him, though perhaps not inferior in native powers of mind, re-
sembled the afiection of a dutiful child toward her father, rather than
the feelings of a mother for her son. During this period he labored
through the week upon the farm, and preached on the Sabbath to
different vacant congregations in the neighboring towns. He also es-
tablished a school at Northampton, for the instruction of youth
of both sexes, which was almost immediately resorted to by such a
number of pupils, that he was under the necessity of employing two
assistants. At the same time, owing to the dispersed condition of the
college at New Haven, during the war, and to his established charac-
ter as an instructor, a part of one of the classes repaired to North-

90 TIMOTHY DWIGI^.

ampton, and placed themselves under his instruction. To them he
devoted his own immediate attention, until they had completed their
regular course of collegiate studies." *

The load of domestic care he had sustained during this period,
unusual for one so young, was not without its use in qualifying him
for the post he was ultimately to occupy. While still within the pre-
cincts of youth, the care and education of brothers and sisters of dif-
ferent ages, some nearly as old as himself, was well suited to mature
his character and ripen it into full manhood. He exhibited at once
a beautiful example of filial piety and fraternal wisdom. Nor was
the self-denial imposed on his ambition, and the necessity of relin-
quishing, or at least of postponing, all his flattering prospects of rising
in the world, lost upon him as a means of moral discipline. At the
age of thirty he had reached a dignity of deportment, and a maturity
of wisdom, usually associated with advanced years and the largest
experience. These five years spent in earnest efforts to alleviate a
mother's cares, to form and mould the characters of such numbers
who looked to him as a father, and the self-denial and laborious ex-
ertions, both bodily and mental, which he was compelled to exercise
to provide the means of their support, formed together a miniature
of those trials and responsibilities which he afterward sustained as
President of Yale College.

Let us next attend him into political life, where he was gaining
new and most important experience for the office of teacher. A
strong disposition was manifested, from time to time, by the inhabit-
ants of Northampton, to employ him in civil life. In the county con-
ventions of Hampshire, he twice represented the town. Twice also
he consented to serve the town as their representative in the state
legislature. This was in the years 1781 and 1782, just before the
close of the war of Independence, when the distresses and moral evils
occasioned by a state of war imposed on the state governments most
difficult and responsible duties. Inexperienced as he was in the busi-
ness of a politician or a legislator, he at once became a leading mem-
ber of the house, and was greatly distinguished and admired for his
talents and eloquence. All his exertions were on the side of good
order and good morals, and indicated a steady attachment to the prin-
ciples of rational liberty, and decided hostility to licentiousness. A
favorable opportunity was afforded him to serve the cause of educa-
tion, which was ever near his heart. A petition for a grant in favor
of Harvard College was before the legislature. At that time such
grants were unpopular. During his occasional absence from the

* Memoir.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT. g-,

house the petition had been called up ; and, after finding but few,
and those not very warm advocates, had been generally negatived.
On taking his seat, Mr. Dwight, learning what had occurred, moved
a reconsideration of the vote. In a speech of about one hour in
length, fraught with wit, with argument, and with eloquence, and re-
ceived with marked applause on the spot, from the members and the
spectators, he effectually changed the feelings of the house, and pro-
cured a nearly unanimous vote in favor of the grant. So marked
was his success in this public career, that many citizens of distinction
urged him to embark on the sea of political life, and a delegation of
his native county earnestly requested him to become a candidate for
election to the Continental Congress. He had made some progress in
the study of law before he made choice of the clerical profession ;
but, having solemnly dedicated himself to the ministry of the gospel,
he could not be persuaded, by any prospects of civil promotion, to
abandon the sacred calling.

In IY83, at the age of thirty -one years, he was settled over the
church and congregation of Greenfield, a parish in the town of Fair-
field, in Connecticut, where he continued the following twelve years.

It only remains, therefore, to view President Dwight as a theologian
and a 'parochial minister of the (/ospel, in order to complete our sur-
vey of the training his course of life had involved for that peculiar
office for which he was ultimately destined. When we reflect that
the ministry of the gospel itself is only a more exalted kind of teach-
ing, we can not doubt the preparation it affords for the highest exer-
cise of that office. The study of the Bible is imbibing truth at its
fountain, and nothing can be more appropriate to one whose mission
afterward is to establish, upon the foundations of immutable truth,
the characters of those who are to lead the councils of their country,
or to influence the eternal destinies of their fellow-men. It was
especially important for a teacher whose instructions, like his, lay to a
great extent in the fields of theology and moral philosophy. Besides
all this, the experience of the pastor of a people, fraught as it usually
is with lessons of prudence, discretion, and the fruits of benevolent
action, affords an excellent preparation for the office of President of a
college. To President Dwight such a preparation was peculiarly ap-
propriate, since he was called to fulfill the duties of chaplain and pas-
tor, as well as of instructor and governor of the college. It is not
the least of the advantages of the situation of the pastor of a people,
as a preparation for the head of such an institution of learning, that
it brings him into contact with every class of minds, and all shades
of character, and thus makes him thoroughly acquainted with human

92 TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

nature. Moreover, the life of a parish minister is itself a c,)ur5e of
moral discipline well fitted to impart that prudence and self-control,
which are important elements in the character of the instructor and
governor of youth. But the actual exercise of the gift of teaching
constituted, in connection with the pastoral office, an important part
of the labors of Dr. Dwight, during the whole time that he resided
at Greenfield. Ilis native hospitality, the charms of his conversation,
and his extensive acquaintance with men in professional and civil life,
rendered his house a great resort of men of letters, of theologians,
of eminent civilians, as well as of extensive family connections. Such
an amount of company of course added greatly to the ordinary ex-
penses of supporting a family, and both combined went far beyond
the scanty salary of a parish minister. Hence, necessity con-
spired with his natural fondness for teaching, to induce him to open
a school of the higher order, for the instruction of youth of both
sexes. He erected, therefore, a small school-house on a commanding
and beautiful site, overlooking the waters of Long Island Sound, for
a long distance, and the bright villages on its margin, — a situation
embracing scenery hardly surpassed in beauty by any in New Eng-
land. This seminary he taught in person, devoting to it regularly
six hours every day. In a short time, youths in great numbers, and
of both sexes, not only from various parts of New England, but from
the middle and southern states, as well as from abroad, resorted to
his school. It was commenced and carried on absolutely without
funds, and depended solely on his own character and exertions. Ho
supported it, during his whole residence at Greenfield, with unexam-
pled reputation. The entire number of pupils instructed here, within
the period of twelve years, exceeded one thousand. Many of them
were carried through the whole course of education customary at
college. In my youth I was well acquainted with men of high in-
telligence and distinguished literary attainments, whose sole educa-
tion had been acquired in the school at Greenfield Hill. This semi-
nary also afforded, it is believed, the earliest example in our country,
where females were instructed in the higher branches of academic
learning. It is justly added by the biographer of President Dwight,
that probably to the exertions and influence of no one individual are
the ladies of our country so extensively indebted, — that no man
thought more highly of the sex, no man loved better the company
of women of refinement and intelligence, and no man did more to
exalt the female character. In the class debates of the old question, on
the relative ability of the sexes, the President always warmly insisted
on the full equality of the female sex.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT. 93

What a picture do the labors of Dr. Dwiglit, at Greenfield Hill,
afford of the productiveness of learned industry ! It was here that
he digested his great System of Theology, and preached it twice in a
series of sermons to his people, performing for them at the same
time, with the greatest faithfulness, all his parochial duties. It was
here that he composed the beautiful and instructive poem of " Green-
field Ilill," chiefly as a pastime during his walks between his house
and his school room. Six hours a day, also, were given to the fatigu-
ing and exhausting labors of teaching different classes of pupils, in
a great range and variety of studies. lie cultivated, with his own
hands, a large culinary, fruit, and flower garden ; and he devoted a
great amount of time, with the most unwearied hospitality, to the
crowds of visitors that continually thronged his house. Prodigious
as were the labors which we have already enumerated, yet it is but
a partial list of all that he accomplished during this fruitful period of
his life.

From the preceding sketch it is evident that the whole course of
life of Dr. Dwight, from infancy to middle life, when he entered the
Presidency of Yale College, was a continual training for that elevated
station to which, on the death of President Stiles, he was transferred,
in 1795. Those noble maternal influences which were shed upon his
infant mind, like the dew of morning upon the opening flower ; the
habitual cultivation of all his faculties, of intellect and imagination,
which formed the well-balanced mind ; a heart fraught with every
noble and exalted purpose, and deeply imbued with the faith and
benevolence of the gospel, and the moral discipline he had received,
as well as the valuable experience he had gained in the onerous duties
he had discharged in his filial and fraternal relations ; the life of chap-
lain in the army ; the part he bore in public affairs, as a member of
the legislature ; the experience of a parish minister ; the actual exer-
cise of the gifts of teaching through every stage of life ; and, finally,
his multifarious learning, and boundless stores of knowledge : tljese
all conspired to form an amount of preparation for the instruction
and government of youth, and for superintending the various interests
of a Univei-sity, such as has seldom been brought to the same elevated
station. A brief review of President Dwight's method of teaching
will bring these remarks to a close.

Dr. Dwight, on his entering the Presidency, is said to have relaxed
much from the ancient rigid forms of intercourse between the faculty
and the students, where dignity was graduated by standard measures.
In the old college laws it was enacted, among many other similar pro-
visions for securing the respect of the students toward their ofiicers,

94 TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

that no freshman should wear his hat within ten rods of the Presi-
dent, eight rods of a Professor, and six rods of a Tutor. Yet his bear-
ing was more stately than is common at the present day, and his
courtesy, in returning the sahitations of the students, had more the
air of condescension than a reciprocation of kind and respectful feel-
ings. With the senior class, who, in a body, exclusively fell under
his immediate instruction, he was somewhat less distant, but even one
of them could hardly feel at ease in his presence. Not that the pre-
ceptor was haughty, but the pupil was overawed. They met him
daily in his lecture room, at eleven o'clock. When he entered the
room, the most respectful silence was observed, and all remained
standing until he was seated. There was much, both in his person
and in the ass^lciations connected with him, to inspire them with pro-
found respect. They saw before them, not a pedagogue, or a learned
recluse, ignorant of the world and of human nature, but a man who
had attained high celebrity even in his youth ; the first of American
divines ; a compatriot of the heroes of the revolution ; one who, by
universal consent, held the first rank for splendor of talents and extent
of erudition ; an instructor whose pupils were numbered by thou-
sands, many of them occupying the highest posts of honor and use-
fulness in the church and state. He appeared before them, too, in
all the dignity of unsullied virtue, and armed with the panoply of
a minister of Christ. His person was also large and commanding,
his mannei's refined and courtly, his voice deep and melodious ; — au-
thority, as one born to command, seemed to invest his entire char-
acter.

The books recited to the President were Blair's Khetoric, Locke on
the Human Understanding, and Paley's Moral Philosophy. Every
Wednesday and Saturday, a division of the class, consisting of eight
or ten, read disputations on some question previously selected and
approved by the President, on which, at the close of the discussion,
he gave an elaborate decision. On Monday morning, in the place of
a recitation, he gave a familiar discourse, founded on Vincent's Cate-
chism, on the doctrines, duties, and evidences of Christianity. But
the great value of senior year consisted not so much in the lessons
learned and recited, as in the vast amount of instruction which fell from
the hps of the instructor. It has with some reason been alledged,
as a defect in his method of instruction, that the student was not laid
under sufficient responsibility. Leading questions were asked, which
only required to be affirmed or denied, and hence it was possible to pass
both the daily recitations and the public examinations with but little
study. Senior year was, therefore, just what each individual chose

TIMOTHY DWIGHT. , gg

to make of it. Tliose desirous of improving their time well, found
it a most profitable year. They found their sum of knowledge daily
increased ; their moral principles formed and strengthened ; from
boys they became men, and rose to the full consciousness of man-
hood, and had their principles, literary, political, moral, and religious,
settled for life. The majority carried in note-books, and recorded as
many as possible of the President's remarks. Although the class
met him but once a day, yet the interview was frequently prolonged
from an hour and a half to two hours, and, on dispute days, occa-
sionally still longer. Copious and able as were the instructions given
by President Dwight, in connection with the text-books, it was in the
ample and profound discussions of questions, whether philosophical,
political, literary, or religious, that his great powers and resources as a
teacher were most fully brought out. In these, according to the nature
of the subject, appeared, by turns, the divine, the poet, the statesman,
the patriot, the philanthropist. It was often evident that he came to
the lecture room to attend these debates without any special prepara-
tion. Indeed, when, on account of the length of time occupied by
the disputants, his decision was postponed, to be given at the close of
the next recitation, he would sometimes require to be reminded of the
question. But, after a moment's reflection, apparently throwing his
ideas under numerical heads, he would enter with all his soul into the
discussion, bringing forward in luminous order the most convincing
arguments, embellishing by rhetorical figures, illustrating by pertinent
anecdotes, enlivening by sallies of humor, and often warming up into
a more glowing strain of eloquence than he ever exemplified in his
public discourses. During the reading of the debates of the students,
he often interspersed remarks suggested by some casual association,
which led him at a distance from the main point in argument. But
it was useful information, however discursive he might sometimes ap-
pear ; and, by this practice, he touched upon so many of the exigen-
ces of real life, that his pupils have been often heard to say, that
hardly a day of their subsequent lives has passed without their re-
calling something said by President Dwight. The earnestness with
which he engaged in the business of instruction, and in arguing ques-
tions in which important truths were to be established, never abated.
It might be the twentieth or the thirtieth class of pupils now before
him, and he might be reiterating the same ground for the thirtieth
time, yet his zeal knew no satiety. Nothing could have so fully sus-
tained his interest in these exercises, but a high appreciation of the
value of the truths he taught, and a benevolent desire that his pupils
should share with him so rich a treasure. The intensity of feeling

96 TIMOTHY DWIGUT.

with which he engaged in the defense of the truth, when it was as-
sailed or endangered, was strikingly evinced on an occasion when I
was present. During his last sickness, a small class of students in
theology recited to him once a week, and came to his house for that
purpose only a week before he died. When they entered the room,
the President was leaning back in his chair, with his head upon the
wall, and with many indications of intense suflFering.* It was one of
his bad days, and Mrs. Dwight went to him and told him that the
young men had come to recite, but besought him not to attempt to
hear them. One of them was to read a dissertation on the doctrine
of the Trinity. The President faintly replied that it would not hurt
him to have the paper read, although he should probably not be able
to make any remarks. The student began to read, and soon touched
upon delicate points in the controversy then waging on this great sub-
ject. The face, before so pale and wan, began to brighten up ; he
leaned forward in his chair, took up several points in the argument, in
opposition to the views of the writer, and, at length, altogether for-
getting his bodily pain and weakness, entered fully into the question,
and discoursed for an hour with his accustomed zeal and energy.

It was a melancholy satisfaction I enjoyed on the day after the de-
cease of this venerated man, to watch over his lifeless remains. My
mind was filled to overflowing with recollections of all I had seen and
heard of the extraordinary personage whose form, majestic even in
death, now lay before me. Retiring from the solemn chamber, I
took my pen and wrote as follows : " Where among all the records
of the many great and good, who have devoted themselves to the
same dignified employment, can a man be found, who united in his
own person a more wonderful assemblage of those qualities which
fit one for forming the characters of youth ? Who has ever united,
in a higher degree, the dignity that commands respect, the accuracy
that inspires confidence, the ardor that kindles animation, the kind-
ness that wins affection, and has been able, at the same time, to ex-
hibit before his pupils the fruits of long and profound research, of an
extensive and profitable intercourse with the world, and of great ex-
perience in the business of instruction ? "f After the lapse of forty
years, and after much opportunity with many eminent instructors,
this estimate seems to me entirely just, and President Dwight is ever
present to my mind as the Great Model Teacher.

* His disorder was an internal cancer, and his anguish extreme.

t Tliis passage formed a part of a Memoir of Dr. Dwight, published in the "Philadelphia
Port-Folio " for November, 1S17.

2^

^;:^<i<^^ a^^<^^^^^ ,

A

^;^. /^ ^^i^Z/^^z^^

THOMAS H. GALLAUDET,

In continuing our sketches of eminent teachers and educators, we
shall dwell* in this number of our Journal, on the life, and ser-
vices of one who was both a practical teacher, and a widely influen-
tial educator, — at once eminently successful in a new, and difficult
department of human culture, and in diffusing by pen, voice, anc
example, sound views as to principles and methods of instructior
and discipline applicable to schools of difl'erent grades and character.
But he was not only a successful teacher, and a wise educator, but the
founder of an institution by which thousands have already been res-
cued from the doom of ignorance, and isolation from their kind ;
and tens of thousands more will yet be introduced to the boundless
store of human and divine knowledge, to the delights of social inter-
course, to a participation in the privileges of American citizenship,
to a practical skill in the useful and liberal arts, and to the ability
generally of adding each something to the stock of human happiness,
and subtracting something from the sum of human misery. For
his widely beneficent life and sublime Christian virtues, the world
has added one other name to its small roll of truly good men, who
have founded institutions of beneficence, and lifted from a portion of
our race the burden of a terrible calamity ; —

One other name with power endowed.

To cheer and guide men onward as they pass, —
One other image on the heart bestowed,
To dwell there beautiful in holiness.
To Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet we may apply his own beautiful
paraphrase of Collins' Dirge, " How sleep the brave /" <&c.

How sleep the good ! who sink to rest,
With their Redeemer's favor blest :
When dawns the day, by seers of old,
In sacred prophecy foretold,
They then shall burst their humble sod,
And rise to meet their Saviour— God.

To seats of bliss by angel-tongue,
With rapture is their welcome sung,
And, at their tomb, when evening gray
Hallows the hour of closing day,
Shall Faith and Hope awhile repair,
To dwell with weeping Friendship thera

♦ThefoUowin? sketch is abridged from a " Trifture fo Gallaudet. A Discourse on the
Life, Character, and Services of Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet. L L. D., delivered before the
Citizens of Hartford, 7th January 1352, with an Appendix, containing History of Deaf mute
Instruction and Institutions. By Henry Barnard, p. 267."

G

98

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet was born in the city of Philadelphia,
on the tenth of December, 1787. His father, Peter W. Gallaudet,
was descended from that branch of a Huguenot family, which fled from
France on the revocation of the Edict of Nantz, and settled afterwards
near New Rochelle, in New York, on the borders of Connecticut. His
mother, Jane Hopkins, was the daughter of Captain Thomas Hopkins,
— a descendant of one of the first settlers of Hartford, whose name is
recorded on the historical monument in the old burial-ground in the
rear of the Centre Church. The family removed to Hartford in 1800,
where the son continued ever after to reside.

Mr. Gallaudet completed his preparation at the Hartford Gram-
mar School for the sophomore class of Yale College, which he entered
in the autumn of 1802, in the fifteenth year of his age, — an age, as
he often remarked, too young, to enable a student to reap the full
advantage of a collegiate course of study and discipline. Although
quite young, — the youngest member of his class, and by temperament
and habit inclined to be cheerful and even mirthful, — he was ever studi-
ous, achieving a reputation for sound scholarship, second to no other
in his class distinguished for the talent and attainments of its mem-
bers, strictly observant of the laws of the institution, and gradu-
ated before he was eighteen years old. During his connection with
college, he was remarkable for the accuracy of his recitations in every
department of study, and was particularly eminent in mathematics,
and for proficiency in English composition. To his early attention to
mathematics we may attribute much of that discipline which enabled
him to summon his mental vigor and resources at will, and to his
early and constant practice of English composition, that facility and
felicity of expression which characterized his conversation and more
elaborate discourses.

Soon after leaving college he entered upon the study of law, in the
office of Hon. Chauncey Goodrich. Here, as in everything he under-
took, he was punctual and methodical, his recitations were remark-
able for their accuracy, and he gave every assurance of his becoming
in time a thorough and successful lawyer. The state of his health,
which was never robust, compelled him, at the close of the first year,
to suspend his legal studies, which he never resumed. The interval,
before he entered on his duties as tutor in Yale College, in 1808, was
devoted to an extensive course of reading in English literature, and
the practice of English composition. His experience as tutor enabled
him to review and extend his collegiate studies, and introduced him to
the subject of education as a science, and to its practical duties as an
art. No one could appreciate more highly than he did the value of
-even a brief experience in teaching, as a school of mental and moral

TUOMAS nOPKlNS GALLAUDET. 09

discipline, and as the most direct way to test the accuracy of attain-
ments already made.

About this time, his health requiring a more active life, he under-
took a business commission for a large house in New York, the
prosecution of which took him over the Alleghanies, into the States
of Ohio and Kentucky, — and on his return, with the intention of
pursuing a mercantile life, he entered as a clerk in a counting-room in
the city of New York. But neither law nor commerce seemed to
open the field in which he could labor with his whole heart and
mind, although he often referred to his early acquaintance with their
elementary principles and forms of business and practice, as a valuable
part of his own education. Neither did he regard his collegiate
education as at all an inappropriate preparation for a life of active
mercantile business. He never entertained, for himself or his children,
the absurd and mischievous notion, which is too prevalent in society,
that a man having a collegiate or a liberal education must necessarily
preach, or practise law, or hold a political office, or trade, or spec-
ulate on a large scale, to be respectable. He regarded the thorough
training of the mind, and large acquaintance with books and men, as
a fit preparation for any business or pursuit.

Mr. Gallaudet made a public profession of his religious faith, and
became a member of the First Congregational Church of Hartford,
under the ministry of Rev. Dr. Strong. In the fall of 1811, he com-
menced the study of theology at Andover, which he prosecuted with
his usual diligence and success, amid all the interruptions and draw-
backs of delicate health. He was licensed to preach in 1814, and
received, immediately, an invitation to assume the pastoral relations
with a church in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and from several par-
ishes in Connecticut ; but, although admirably adapted for such a life,
his Master had work for him in other and no less important fields of
Christian duty.

Mr. Gallaudet was now twenty-seven years old. His life, thus
far, was a course of diligent and thorough preparation for a career of
eminent usefulness in any department of literary or professional labor.
His mind was disciplined and enriched by an assiduous improvement
of all the advantages of one of the best colleges in our country. He
had assured himself of his own knowledge, by his success as a practi-
cal teacher. He had devoted much time to the attentive study of
English literature, and to the practice of English composition. He had
gained a knowledge of the elementary principles of law, and of legal
forms, by an attendance on legal proceedings in court, and in the office
of a successful practitioner. He had gone through a thorough course
of theological study, and had already officiated with gn at acceptance

100 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

as a preacher in a temporary supply of the pulpit in several places.
He had seen much of the world, and the transactions of business, in
travel, and in the practical duties of the store and the counting-room.
He was universally respected for his correct life, as well as thorough
scholarship, and beloved for his benevolent feelings, social qualities,
and courteous manners. He was ready for his mission. That mission
was the long-neglected field of deaf-mute instruction, to which his
attention had already been turned from his interest in little Alice
Cogswell,* whose father's residence was in the immediate neighbor-
hood of his own home, and who was, also, the companion of his own
younger brothers and sisters. It was during an interview in his
father's garden, where Alice was playing with other children, that Mr.
Gallaudet, then a student at Andover, succeeded in arresting her
attention by his use of signs, the natural language of the deaf and
dumb, and in giving her a first lesson in written language, by teaching
her that the word hat represented the thing^ hat, which he held in his
hand. Following up this first step, in such methods as his own inge-
nuity could suggest, and with such lights as he could gather from a
publication of the Abbe Sicard, which Dr. Cogswell had procured from
Paris, Mr. Gallaudet, from time to time, succeeded in imparting to
her a knowledge of many simple words and sentences, which were
much enlarged by members of her own family, and, especially, by her
first teacher. Miss Lydia Huntley [better known as Mrs. SigourneyJ.t
This success encouraged her father in the hope that, instead of sending
his child, made more dear to him by her privations, away from home,
to Edinburgh, or London, for instruction in the schools of Rev. R.
Kinniburgh, or Dr. "Watson, a school might be opened in Hartford.

Dr. Cogswell had already ascertained, by a circular addressed to the
Congregational clergymen of Connecticut, that there were at least
eighty deaf mutes in the state, many of whom were young enough to
attend a school ; and his Christian benevolence prompted the aspira-
tion and belief that it was not the " will of our Father who is in
heaven, that one of these little ones should perish." With these data
and aims before him, and with such information as he could gather as
to the progress and results of deaf-mute instruction in Europe, he
addressed himself to the Christian benevolence and kind feelings of his
neighbors and friends, for their cooperation. A meeting was accord-
ingly held at his house, on the thirteenth of April, 1815, composed

* We shall give, In a subseqaent number of the Journal, a brief biographical sketch of Alico
Cogswell, whose name is so indissolubly connected with the history of deaf-mute instruction in
America.

t Mrs. Sigourney ha.s given an interesting sketch of Alice, in her Interesting Tolume entitled
♦'My Pupils,'' published by Carter, New York, 1S63.

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAITDET. 101

(as appears from a journal kept by Mr. Grallaudet) of Mason F.
Cogswell, M. D., Ward Woodbridge, Esq., Daniel Wadsworth, Escj.,
Henry Hudson, Esq., Hon. Nathaniel Terry, John Caldwell, Esq.,
Daniel Buck, Esq., Joseph Battel, Esq. (of Norfolk), the Kev. Xathan
Strong, D. D., and Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet. The meeting was
opened with the invocation of the Divine blessing on their undertaking,
by Bev. Dr. Strong, and after a full discussion of the practicability of
sending some suitable person to Europe, to acquire the art of instruct-
ing the deaf and dumb. Dr. Cogswell and 3Ir. Woodbridge * were
appointed a committee to obtain subscriptions for the purpose, and
ascertain the name of a suitable person who would consent to go.

To Mr. Gallaudet, the eyes of all interested in the object were
instinctively turned, as the one person, qualified beyond all others, by
his manners, talents, attainments, and Christian spirit, to engage in
this mission. After much prayerfiil consideration of the subject, and
not till he had fe.iled to enlist the agency of others in this pioneer
work of benevolence, on the twentieth of April, 1815, he informed Dr.
Cogswell and 3Ir. Woodbridge " that he would visit Europe for the
sake of qualifying himself to become a teacher of the deaf and dumb
in this country." On the twentieth of May following, he sailed for
New York, in the prosecution of his benevolent object.

Encountering unexpected delays in obtaining admission as a pupil
into the London Asylum, then under the care of Joseph Watson,
LL. D., he had made arrangements to spend a year in the institution
at Edinburgh, which was also likely to be thwarted, when he opportunely
gained an introduction to the Abbe Sicard, who was at that time on a
visit to London for the purpose of giving a course of lectures explana-
tory of his method of teaching the deaf and dumb, accompanied by
Massieu and Clerc, his favorite pupils and assistants. By this benevo-
lent man, one of the greatest benefactors of the deaf mute, Mr. Gral-
laudet was cordially received, and invited to visit Paris, where eyery
feeility would be extended to him without fee, or hindrance of any
kind. He accordingly repaired to Paris, where he devoted himself
assiduously to the study of deaf-mute instruction until July, 1816,

* Mr. WoodbrUge «M ttten fai Cbe prime atS&^nnd in the front rank of themercantOe interest
«f Hartfofd. By hit pmimMl aoKeitatioB, mni the example of his ovn liberal sabwriptioo, be
noxeded in dte eoww of <ne day in obuining Che pledge of a Baffieieiit Bom to meet the erpenae
«rtheent)erpri9e,aiid,itisaafeto«ay,antno other bnriness transaetioo of his life is norrano-
dated with inch atrain of plp-at reenPeetioiw. He, and Daniel Bwdc, Esq., are now [1856] the
only sorriTorsof that first robintary astociation, in whose pcayera, pecaniaiy contribatioos, add
peraooal exertions, the Aneiiean Asylom had its origin. Fcfenxiet on the Hst of subscribers in
a«MUl^ stands the name or Daniel Wadsworth, who gare, to the eoaainanity in which be lired,
throogh a long life, a beaatifiol ezanqtie of the trae uses of wealth, by its jodiooas expenditare
under his own penonal inspectiwi, for the prasotian of ChiktiaB, boKToient, patrioCie, and
literaiy poiposes.

102 THOMAS HOPKINS OALLAUDET.

when he had the happiness of embarking for America with 3Ir. Lau-
rent Clerc, a highly educated deaf mute, one of the ablest pupils of
Sicard, and one of the best teachers of the Paris Institution, — an
event* of scarcely less importance to the immediate success of the
American Asylum, than Mr. Gallaudet's own consent to visit Europe
in its Behalf.

After two years of preparation, spent in organizing an association
based on the principle of permanency, raising funds, training and pro-
curing teachers, and making its objects known through the press,
personal interviews, and public addresses, the Asylum was opened with
a class of seven pupils, on Wednesday, the fifteenth of April, 1817, in
the south part of the building now occupied by the City Hotel, in
Hartford. On the Sunday evening following, — April 20lh, — just
two years after he had signified his assent to devote himself to this
ebterprise, Mr. Gallaudet delivered a discourse in the Centre Congre-
gational Church, before a crowded audience, and in the presence of his
interesting group of seven pupils, from the words of Isaiah : — " Then
the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf un-
stopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of
the dumb sing ; for, in the wilderness, waters shall break out, and
streams in the desert " — in which he set forth the advantages likely
to arise from the establishment of the Asylum, and the motives which
should inspire those who are interested in its welfare with renewed
zeal and the hopes of ultimate success. On rising from a fresh peru-
sal of this admirable discourse, written in such pure, polished, and
idiomatic English, and breathing so much of the spirit of Him, by
whose miraculous agency the ears of the deaf were opened, and the
tongue of the dumb loosened ; and contrasting that group of seven
pupils, ignorant, isolated, and unhappy, and the moral desert in which
the deaf mute then dwelt, with the thousands of the same class who
have since been instructed, and the thousand homes which have since

* How touchingly did Mr. Gallaudet refer to that event in his address at the ever-memorabte
gathering of the deaf and dumb at Hartford, thirty-four years afterwards: — " Wfiat should I
have acc(jrDplished, if the same kind Providence had not enabted me to brin;? back from France,
his native land, one whom we still rejoice to see among us, himself a deaf mute, inttlHjront and
iccomplished, trained under the distinguished Sicard, at that time teaching the higliest class in
the Paris Iiistitution, to be my coadjutor here at home ; to excite a still deeper interest in the
object to which he came to devote his talents and efforts ; to assist in collecting those funds
which were absolutely essential for the very commencement of the operations of the Asylum j
to be my first, and, for a time, only fellow-laborer in the course of Instriwtion, and llien to ren-
der necessary and most cfl&cient aid in preparing for their work the additional teacliers who
were needed."

Although lie came to a land of strangers, he now (1S56) finds himself, as the years pass lightly
over him, near his children and grand-children, amid a circle of api)reciating friends and grate
ful pupils, who will ever shower blessings on him f«jr hia many sacrifices and laiwrs in their bo-
baU'.

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAIJDET. 103

been cheered and blessed, and all the good, direct and indirect, to the
cause of Christian philanthropy which has flowed out of these small
beginnings, we seem almost to stand at the well-spring of that river
of life, seen in the vision of the prophet, which, flowing out from be-
neath the sanctuary, and on the right hand of the altar, into the wilder-
ness, a little rill that could be stepped over, widened and deepened in
its progress, till it became a mighty stream, — a stream which could
not be passed, imparting life wherever it came, and nourishing all
along its banks, trees, whose fruit was for meat, and whose leaves for
medicine.

From time to time, in the course of every year, before the legisla-
tures of the several New England States, in the halls of Congress, in
all of the large cities of the Northern and Middle States, Mr. Gallau-
det, accompanied and assisted by Mr. Clerc, and, not unfrequently, by
a class of pupils, continued to present and advocate the claims of the
deaf mute on the benevolent regards of individuals and public bodies.
The way was thus prepared for that liberality which has since marked
the legislation of the country, by which the education of the deaf and
dumb has become part of the public policy of all the older, and most
of the new States.

It will not be necessary to follow any further in detail Mr. .Gallau-
det's labors in connection with the American Asylum, and for the
benefit of the deaf and dumb. These labors were eminently judicious
and successful ; and although in an undertaking of such magnitude
there are many agencies and many laborers, and all those who work
at the foundation, or even beyond that, who gather slowly the material
and the laborers, and those who work on the top stone, or the orna-
ments, perform a necessary and an honorable part, and all deserve to
be remembered with gratitude, still it is instinctively and universally
felt that the directing mind in this great enterprise, — in its inception,
its gradual maturing, and ultimate organization, — is that of Thomas
Hopkins Gallaudet. Of this we are sure, that he worked incessantly
and wisely, and out to the full circumference of his duty and ability.
His labors and anxieties, necessarily attendant on such an undertak-
ing, — the striking out of new plans and methods, the reconcilement of
differing views in different departments of authority and instruction,
until the best working plan was in successful operation, — were too
much for a temperament naturally so excitable as his, and for a con-
stitution never robust. He accordingly felt it necessary to resign his
place as Principal of the American Asylum in 1830, although h^
never ceased to take an active interest as director in its affairs, and
was always consulted, up to his last illness, with filial confidence and
affection, by the instructors and directors of the institution

104 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

The repose from constant occupation in the instruction and over-
sight of the affairs of the Asylum which his resignation afforded him,
was devoted by Mr. Gallaudet to the prosecution of literary pursuits,
as congenial to his tastes and early habits, and as a means of support-
ing his family. He was distinguished, while in college, for his facility
and felicity in English composition ; and the volume of Discourses,
preached by him in the chapel of the Oratoire, while studying in
Paris, and published in 1817, in which the purity at once of his
literary taste and Christian character is displayed, would alone
entitle him to a prominent place among the worthies of the American
pulpit. In 1831, he published the " Child's Book on the Soul," which
exhibits his remarkable tact in bringing the most abstract subject
within the grasp of the feeblest and youngest mind. This little vol-
ume has gone through a large number of editions, in this country and
in England, and has been translated into the French, Spanish, Ger-
man, and Italian languages. This publication was followed by sev-
eral others of the same character, and which were widely read. His
" Mother's Primer " has lightened the task of infantile instruction in
many homes and many schools ; and his "Defining Dictionary," and
" Practical Spelling-Book," composed in connection with Rev. Horace
Hookei>, rigidly and perseveringly followed, are invaluable guides to
teacher and pupil to a practical knowledge of the meaning and use of
our language in composition and conversation. At the urgent request
of the American Tract Society, he commenced, in 1833, the publica-
tion of a series of volumes under the general title of " Scripture Biog-
raphy," which was incomplete at the time of his death, but which, as
far as published, are to be found in most of the Sunday School and
Juvenile Libraries of our country. In 1835, he published the first
part of a work, with the title of " The Every-Day Christian," in which
he endeavors to delineate certain traits of Christian character, and to
lead his readers to the consideration of certain every-day duties,
which are in danger of being overlooked amid the occupations and
pursuits of this world. In this volume he unfolds, at some length,
his own ideal of a Christian life, as exhibited in the family state, and
in the faithful and conscientious performance of a class of duties
which, although unseen, are essential parts of the vast moral machi-
nery which the Almighty Hand is wielding for the accomplishment of
the designs of Infinite Wisdom and Goodness. The plan of the work
was probably suggested by a movement on the part of many public-
spirited and benevolent citizens of Hartford, in the winter of 1834-
35, to promote the cause of moral reform among the youth of that
city. The prosecution of the object, to Mr. Gallaudet's mind, was
accompanied with too much denunciation of amusements, innocent in

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. 105

themselves, and objectionable only when pursued too far, and under
circumstances calculated to lead to excessive indulgence, and to vicious
associations and associates. His mode of keeping young people out
of places of idle and corrupting resort, as set forth in a public
address at that time, and more elaborately in this little volume, is to
make home pleasant and attractive, — to cultivate the taste and the
habits of reading, of fireside amusements and social intercourse —
and to make home attractive not only to the children of the family,
but to clerks and apprentices, who may be in the employment or
under the guardianship of the head of the family.

Valuable as these publications are, both in the matter and manner
of their execution, and popular as many of them have been and still
are, they are only the indications of what he might have accomplished
in this department of authorship, if he had enjoyed firmer health and
more leisure for meditation and study. It is safe to say that Mr.
Gallaudet never rose in the morning without having in his mind or on
his hands some extra duty of philanthropy to perform, — something
beyond what attached to him from his ofiicial or regular engagements.
His assistance was asked whenever an appeal was to be made to the
public, in behalf of a benevolent or religious object, which required
the exercise of a cultivated intellect, the impulses of a benevolent
heart, and the personal influence of a character confessedly above all
political and sectarian principles.

Although* through his whole life a practical educator and teacher,
it was during this period that he distinguished himself as the friend,
and efficient promoter by pen and voice, of educational improvement.
On all movements in behalf of general education, in institutions and
methods, he formed his own opinions with his usual caution, and
maintained them with courtesy and firmness. While he acknowledged
the fact of mutual instruction in the family and in life, which lies at
the foundation of Bell's and Lancaster's systems of monitorial
instruction, as an educational principle of universal application in
schools, and always advocated and practised the employment of older
children in the family, and of the older and more advanced pupils in
the school, in the work of instructing and governing the younger and
least advanced, he never countenanced for a moment the idea which
swept over our country from 1820 to 1830, that monitors, young and
inexperienced in instruction and life, could ever supply the place, in
schools, of professionally trained teachers of mature age, thorough
mental discipline, and high moral character.

Although he always advocated, and applied in his own family and
family school, the principles of infant education, commencing with
the child while in the arms of the mother and the lap of the father,

106 THOMAS UOPKINS GALLAUDET.

he kept aloof from the efforts which were so generally put forth in
our larger cities, from 182G to 1832, for the establishment of infant
schools, as then understood and conducted. He sympathized deeply
in the movement for the establishment of manual labor schools from
1832 to 1838, and was the constant advocate of more thorough
physical education in institutions of every grade, from the family to
the professional school. Although not strictly the first to present to
the people of Connecticut and of New England the necessity of pro-
viding special institutions for the professional training of young men
and young women for the office of teaching, his *' Letters of a Father,"
published in the Connecticut Observer in 1825, and afterward
circulated in a pamphlet, were among the earliest and most effective
publications on the subject.

He was among the most earnest to call attention, in conversation,
through the press, and in educational meetings, to the whole subject
of female education, and especially to the more extensive employment
of females as teachers. His hopes for the regeneration of society,
and especially for the infusion of a more refined culture in manners
and morals into the family, and especially into common schools, rested
on the influence of pious and educated women as mothers and
teachers. He was early interested in the establishment of the Hart-
ford Female Seminary, and delivered an address in 1827 in its behalf,
which was published. He was connected with the general supervision
of the Seminary, and with its instruction as lecturer on composition
and moral philosophy, in 1833.

Although, in the absence of such common schools as could meet his
views of the wants of his own children, especially in all that regards
moral and religious culture, and personal habits and manners, he for
years established a small family school for the education of his own
children, and the children of his immediate friends, he was ever the
advocate of the most liberal appropriation, and of the most complete
organization, instruction and discipline of public or common schools,
— and he did much, by pen and voice, to advocate their improve-
ment. As has already been stated, so early as 1825, he fixed for the
first time the attention of educators, and to some extent of the public,
on the source of all radical and extensive improvement of them and
all schools, in the professional training of teachers. In 1827 he was
an active member of the Connecticut Society for the Improvement of
Common Schools, of which Hon. Roger Minot Sherman was President,
and the Rev. Horace Hooker, and the Rev. Thomas Robbins, D. D.,
the real laborers, — one of the first, if not the first society of the
kind in this country. He was a member of the committee of
arrangements in the teachers' convention hdd in Hartford, in Octo-

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. 107

bcr, 1830, of which Noah Webster, LL. D., was President. The
discussions in that convention, of such topics as the influence of the
school fund of Connecticut as the main reliance of the people for the
support of common schools, in which Dr. Humphrey, then President
of Amherst College, a native of the State, and a teacher for many
years in her district schools, took an active part ; — the proper con-
struction of school-houses, on which subject Dr. William A. Alcott
read a paper, which was afterward published as a prize essay by the
American Institute of Instruction, and circulated all over the coun-
try ; — the qualifications of teachers, which was ably presented in a
lecture by Rev. Gustavus Davis, — had a powerful influence on the
cause of educational improvement throughout New England. In
1833 he wrote a little tract, entitled " Public Schools Public Bless-
ings," which was published by the New York Public School Society for
general circulation in the city of New York, at a time when an effort
was made, which proved successful, to enlarge the operations of that
society.

In 1838, he was the person, and the only person, had in view, to
fill the ofl&ce of Secretary of the Board of Commissioners of Com-
mon Schools in Connecticut, when the bill was drafted for a public
act '* to provide for the better supervision of common schools " in
Connecticut. The post was urged on his acceptance, with the offer
and guaranty by individuals of an addition of one third to the salary
paid by the State. He declined, mainly from his unwillingness to
absent himself as much from his family as the plan of operations
contemplated, and also " because of the apathy, as to the impor-
tance of this cause, which he had many reasons to know weighed not
only on the public mind generally, but on the minds and hearts of
good men, and even Christians, who take an active and liberal part in
other moral and religious movements. To break up this apathy,
requires more of youthful strength and enthusiasm than can be found
in an invalid and a man of fifty years of age." In a conversation
held with the individual who afterward entered on this field of labor,
through his earnest solicitations, Mr. Gallaudet anticipated the diffi-
culties which that enterprise afterward encountered, and which he
feared would " probably not entirely defeat, but must inevitably post-
pone its success. But never mind ; the cause is worth laboring and
suffering for ; and enter on your work with a manly trust that the
people will yet see its transcendent importance to them and their
children to the latest posterity, and that God will bless an enterprise
fraught with so much of good to every plan of local benevolence." In
company with the Secretary, he visited every county in the State in
1838, and addressed conventions of teachers, school officers and

108 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET,

parents. He took part in the course of instruction of the first
normal class, or teachers' institute,* held in this countr}^ in 1839,
and again in a similar institute in 1840. He appeared before the
Joint Committee of Education in the General Assembly, on several
occasions when appropriations for a normal school were asked for.
He was one of the lecturers in the teachers' convention held in Hart-
ford in 1846, — and had the gratification of welcoming to the State
Normal School at New Britain, in 1850, the first class of pupil
teachers, and of taking part in their instruction. He was to have
delivered a public address before one of the literary societies in that
institution, called, in gratitude for his early and constant advocacy
of normal schools, after his name, at the first anniversary of the State
Normal School in September, 1851.

Mr. Gallaudet was a contributor at difierent times to the " Annals
of Education," while under the charge of William C. Woodbridge,
and to the " Connecticut Common School Journal " from 1838 to 1842.
In 1839 he edited an American edition of "Principles of Teaching,
by Henry Dunn, Secretary of the British and Foreign School Society,
London," under the title of " Schoolmaster's Manual " — a truly val-
uable work, which has gone through many editions in England.

He took an active interest in the lyceum movement, from 1826 to
1840, — and particularly in the Goodrich Association, in 1831, under
whose auspices the first course of popular lectures was delivered in
Connecticut, — and in the proceedings of the American Lyceum, at
its annual meeting in Hartford, in 1838, out of which originated the
Hartford Young Men's Institute in the same year. In fine, he sym-
pathized with, and participated, so far as his health and other
engagements would allow, in every movement which aimed to elevate,
purify and bless society through a wide-spread system of popular
education.

In 1837, the county of Hartford, through the exertions mainly of
Alfred Smith, Esq., erected a prison, on a plan which admitted of a
classification of the prisoners, of their entire separation at night, of
their employment in labor under constant supervision by day, and of
their receiving appropriate moral and religious instruction. Mr.
Gallaudet sympathized warmly with this movement, and in the absence
of any means at the disposal of the county commissioners to employ
the services of a chaplain and religious teacher, volunteered to dis-
charge these duties without pay. He continued to perform religious
service every Sabbath morning for eight years, and to visit the prison
from time to time during each week, whenever he had reason to sup-

• An account of this Institute is published fa the "Connecticut Common School Journal " for
1839.

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. 109

pose his presence and prayers were particularly desired. In such
labors of love to the criminal and neglected, unseen of men, and not
known to twenty individuals in Hartford, the genuine philanthropy
and Christian spirit of this good man found its pleasantest field of
exercise.

On the sixth of June, 1838, Mr. Gallaudet became connected
■with the Connecticut Retreat for the Insane,* as chaplain, the duties
of which office he continued to discharge, with exemplary fidelity and
happy results, up to the day of his last illness.

Mr. Gallaudet entered on his new and interesting field of labor with
his usual caution, preparation and thoroughness. No man could
study his duties with a more prayerful and earnest spirit, — no one
could improve more faithfully every opportunity to become intimately
acquainted with the peculiarities of the mental and moral condition
of each of the numerous inmates of the Retreat, — no one could aim
to act in more perfect accordance with the counsels and directions of
the superintending physician, — no one could select with more cau-
tious deliberation the truths of religion which could be advantageously
adapted to those who are laboring under mental or moral delusions,
or more wisely present the motives which could aid in leading back
such to a self-controlling and healthful condition of mind, or adminis-
ter the consolation that would reach their real or supposed trials.
The experience of each successive year furnished accumulating evi-
dence of the usefulness of his labors, and the efficacy of kind moral
treatment and a wise religious influence in the melioration and care of
the insane. How beautifully did both his manner and success illus-
trate the wisdom of that law of kindness, which Dr. Todd impressed
on the organization of this retreat as the all-pervading and plastic
power of its moral discipline ! 0, how vividly did his mode of con-
versing with the insane bring back the image and language of that
gifted man, — the first physician and founder of the Retreat ! — how
beautifully did the labors of both realize the language in which
Whittier describes the true mode of dealing with the insane !

* Although the directors of this institution were the first to make an appointment of this
character, not only for the purpose of daily family worship, and religious worship on the Sabbath
for its officers and inmates, but as part of the system of moral treatment of insanity, — still the
earliest movement in this direction was made by the trustees and superintendent of the State
Lunatic Hospital at Worcester, Mass., in 1835.

To carry out his plans to perfection in this important department of the moral treatment of
insanity, and especially in its early stages, Dr. Woodward felt the necessity of having the co-
operation of a clergyman of cheerful and yet fervent piety, of large acquaintance with men, and
of great versatility in modes of reaching the human mind and heart, and, above all, of that Christ-
like spirit, " which, touched with a sense of human infirmity," should not expend itself in passive
pity, but in wholesome and practical action for its relief. These qualities and qualifications he
knew belonged, in a pre:-minent degree, to Mr. Gallaudet, and to him the chaplaincy In the
institution at Worcester was tendered.

110 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUTET.

" Gentle as angels' ministry,
The guiding hand of love should be,

Which seeks again those chords to bind
Which human woe hath rent apart, —

To heal again the wounded mind,
And bind anew the broken heart.
The hand which tunes to harmony
The cunning harp whose strings are riven
Must move as light and quietly
As that meek breath of summer heaven
Which woke of old its melody ; —
And kindness to the dim of soul,
Whilst aught of rude and stern control
The clouded heart can deeply feel.
Is welcome as the odors fanned
From some unseen and flowering land,
Around the weary seaman's keel ! "

Mr. Gallaudet's experience and observations among the insane were not
lost upon him as an educator, but furnished him with facts and illustra-
tions, by which, in his practical lectures to teachers, or conversation with
parents and others interested in the cause of education, he shed light
upon questions of deep and general interest connected with the philoso-
phy of mind, and the reciprocal influence which the mind and body
have upon each other, — the elements of moral science, — the educa-
tion and training of children and youth, both in families and schools, —
the preservation of health and reason, and the precautionary measures
to be pursued to guard against the ills of the flesh and the spirit, and
thus enabling every individual to prevent more than the most success-
ful institution can ever mitigate or remove. To him the Retreat was
not only the field of Christian benevolence, but a school of practical
wisdom as an educator. In the conviction that a defective and faulty
education, through the. period of infancy and youth, is the most prolific
cause of insanity, and that we must look to a well directed system of
education, having for its object physical improvement, no less than
moral and mental culture, as the best security against the attacks of
this most formidable disease, he dwelt on the importance of paying
attention to the physical condition and improvement of schools, to
ventilation, to all the arrangements of the yard, to exercise, to fre-
quent intervals of relaxation from study spent in the fresh air and in
athletic sports, to the proportionate development of all the faculties,
and, in all cases, to the avoidance of undue stimulants to study, espe-
cially with young children and with females.

In 1835-6 Mr. Gallaudet was induced by an association of which
Mr. Richard Bigelow and Henry Hudson, Esq., of Hartford, were the
active members, to visit the western states in reference to a plan of
religious education for that section of the country, which, in coopera-
tion with local and individual efforts, and in aid of existing schools,

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. Ill

contemplated a supply of well qualified teachers and the establishment,
in each state, of at least one model institution of Christian education.
The financial disasters which swept over the country soon after, crip-
pled the means of several of the active promoters of the plan, and it
was postponed, never to be renewed under the same auspices.*

Among the religious and benevolent enterprises in which he was
particularly interested, may be mentioned flie American Tract Society,
of the Connecticut branch of which he was for many years president ;
the cause of universal peace, which he aimed to promote by dissemi-
nating information among all men, of the anti-Christian tendency of
the war spirit, and by cultivating, in every way, the doctrines and
graces of Christianity, commencing always with the individual, and
spreading out through the family and the neighborhood, till they em-
braced the state and the world ; and the civilization and Christianiza-
tion of Africa by means of colonies of free, intelligent, and religious
blacks from this country. To the American Colonization Society and
its aflaliated societies, he was in the habit of looking as the great
instrumentality, under Providence, for elevating the condition of the
African race in its own home, and wherever the cupidity of other
races may have forcibly transplanted it. No man could be more kind
and considerate in his attentions and efibrts to improve the condition
of this class of our population at home, and especially in providing
them with the mearis of intellectual and religious improvement.

After living a life of practical usefulness, such as it is the privilege
of but few good men to live, and yet such as every wise man at the
time of his death, if he could live his life over again, would aspire to
live, Mr. Gallaudet died as every good man would desire to die.
Overtaken by sickness in the discharge of his duties at the Retreat,
he retired to his own home and his chamber on the night of the
twentieth of July, to go no more out, until borne by others to his last
resting-place. His disease proved to be an aggravated form of dysen-
tery, and so prolonged and so severe was the attack, that his consti-
tution, never robust, and his strength, which was never vigorous, and
which for the last twenty years had been husbanded only with extreme
care, sank beneath it ; and after forty-six wearisome days and nightfe,
during most of which his mind was remarkably clear and active, and
his faith undimmed, he died on the tenth of September, 1851, leaving
to his widow and eight children, and the sorrowing community where
he was best known, the inestimable legacy of his life and character,
and the consoling lesson of his death.

* At a later period a somewhat similar enterprise was undertaken by Miss Catherine E.
Beecher, to which Mr. Gallaudet ever gave his counsel and aid, in preparing the class of teachers
who have, for the last eight years, assembled in Hartford for a course of preparatory instruction
before going west.

112 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

In the bosom of his family, — watched over by the gentle eye of
affection, — ministered to by children who would keep him yet a lit-
tle longer from the sky, — the last offices of the sick-room sought by
neighbors and friends, who would thus requite his kindness to them,
and mark their appreciation of his worth, — without one gathering
mist or shade on his hope of a blessed hereafter, secured (to use his
own language) not by merits of his own, but by the redeeming grace
of God, — he passed through his last tedious sickness, feeling the
arm of his Saviour beneath him ; and when his hour came, his spirit
passed away so gently, that the precise moment was unmarked :

" They thought him dying when he slept.
And sleeping when he died.

" His soul to Him who gave it rose }
God led him to his long repose,

His glorious rest ;
And though that Christian's sun has set.
Its light shall linger round us yet,

Bright radiant, blest."

Mr. Gallaudet was married, on the tenth of June, 1821, to Miss
Sophia Fowler, of Guilford, a deaf mute, with whom his acquaintance
commenced while she was a member of the first class of pupils in-
structed by him at the Asylum. Seldom has domestic life been
blessed with so sweet an accord of temper, taste, and views, of family
instruction and discipline, and by such a bright dower of clustering
charities, — a triumphant testimony to the deaf mutes, of their inhe-
rent capability, properly instructed, to take their appropriate position
of influence in the family state. In no one position did the distin-
guishing features of his mind and heart shine out more clearly than
in his own home, and in the practical discharge of his domestic and
social duties. Here his views, as a wise educator, were illustrated by
beginning the work of parental instruction and example in the very
arms of the mother, and in the lap of the father, while natural affec-
tion tempers authority with love, and filial fear with filial attachment
and gratitude. Here he aimed to form habits, as well as principles
of truth, temperance, honesty, justice, virtue, kindness, and industry.
Here, by example and influence, by well-timed instruction, and judi-
cious counsels, by a discipline uniform in its demands of strict obe-
dience, yet tempered with parental fondness and familiarity, did ho
aim to fulfil the obligations which God had imposed on him as the head
of a family ; and in this preparatory sphere of instruction he had the
personal and assiduous attention of Mrs. Gallaudet.

TESTIMONIAL AND MONUMENT

TO THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

•

It was the rare fortune of Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet not only to
achieve a great and permanent work of beneficence in the institution
of the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, but to receive
while living, the most touching evidences of filial respect and affection
from the individuals and the class whom his deeds had blessed ; and,
after his decease, to have had erected to his memory by them an im-
propriate and enduring monument of their gratitude, on the ground
which had been the scene of his labors, and of their happiness.

The world has seldom witnessed a more novel and affecting specta-
cle than was exhibited in the Center Congregational Church in Hart-
ford, on the 26th of September 1850, where a large number of the
graduates of the institution assembled to testify, by the presentation
of silver plate, their affectionate respect to their first teachers, Messrs.
Gallaudet and Clerc, as the chief immediate instruments of their
own elevation in the scale of intelligence, usefulness, and happiness,
and the primary agents in procuring all the practical blessings which
education has given, and is still bestowing on the whole class of deaf-
mutes in this country. Over four hundred of this unfortunate class
were present, — probably the largest assemblage of the kind ever seen
in the world, — with intelligent joy beaming from all their faces, and
gratitude displayed in their animated and expressive language of
signs. What a striking contrast to the little group of seven pupils,
ignorant, lonely, and disconsolate, who gathered in the same place a
little more than thirty-four years before, at the first formal opening of
the Asylum, on the 15th of April, 181*7 ! Surely, peace and benevo-
lence have their victories no less than war. Of a truth, ' the wilder-
ness and solitary places have been made glad by the breaking out of
living waters, and the desert rejoiceth and blossoms as the rose, — the
ransomed of the Lord have returned with songs and everlasting joy
upon their head.'

The testimonial, which originated with Mr. Thomas Brown of New
Hampshire, one of the earliest and most intelligent of the pupils of

• The material, and much of the language of this article are drawn from Barnard's Tribute
to GalUadet, and Prof. Rae's Account of the Monument, in the Annals for October, ISM.

H

114 THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

the Asylum, who said in the graphic language of signs, " that his
spirit could not rest until he had devised some method of giving
expression to the grateful feeling which filled his heart," and was
eagerly seized and made the common property of all the graduates
and pupils of the Asylum, consisted of a massive silver pitcher for
Mr. Gallaudet, and another, of the same size for Mr. Clerc, — each
pitcher being accompanied by an appropriate salver.

Upon one side of the pitcher is an engraied scene, representing
Mr. Gallaudet's going to France in the year 181Y, to induce Mr.
Clerc to come to America to instruct the deaf and dumb. There
are figures of the gentlemen, and ships and waves illustrating the
passage across the ocean. The building of the Hartford institution is
likewise represented. On the other side is seen a picture of the inte-
rior of the school ; with teachers, and pupils, and apparatus. In front
and between these scenes, is the head of the Abbe Sicard, of Paris,
the instructor of Messrs. Gallaudet and Clerc, and said to be a cor-
rect likeness. On the neck of the pitcher are chased the different
coats of arms of all the New England states ; and on the handle are
representations of mute cupids, and also closed hands, indicating the
sign of the mutes for the fii-st letter of the alphabet.

The inscriptions are as follows. On the pitcher destined for Mr.
Gallaudet, was engraved : —

PRESENTED TO

REV. THOMAS H. GALLAUDET,

FIRST PRINCIPAL OF THE AMERICAN ASYLUM,

AS A TOKEN OF GRATEFUL RESPECT,

BY THE DEAF MUTES OF NEW ENGLAND.

MOVED BY COMPASSION FOR THE UNFORTUNATE DEAF AND DUMB

OF HIS COUNTRY, HE DEVOTED HIMSELF TO THEIR

WELFARE, AND PROCURED FOR THEM THE

BLESSINGS OF EDUCATION.

HARTFORD, CONN., SEPT. 26tH, 1850.

On the salver : —

TO REV. THOMAS H. GALLAUDET,

FROM 1II8 FRIENDS, THE DEAF MUTES OF NEW ENGLAND.

HARTFORD, CONN., SEPT. 26tH, 1850.

The addresses and other exercises on the occasion of presenting
these testimonials were intensely interesting. Well might Mr. Gallau-
det say that he should think of that day " as standing out with a
strong and memorable prominence among the days of his earthly
pilgrimage, and of his former pupils with a father's love." And that
love was reciprocated by his pupils with truly filial respect and aflfec-
tion. which was exhibited in a sio^nal manner on his decease.

THOMAS IIOrKINS GALLAUDET.

115

He had ever been regarded by tbem as their best friend and bene-
factor, and when his death was announced, a sadness and gloom per-
vaded their whole community, such as is felt when a beloved father
dies. They were not satisfied with the ordinary badges of mourning
and the usual testimonials of respect for their departed preceptor and
guide. Their feelings prompted them to perpetuate his memory, and
their own sense of his worth, in a more enduring and costly monu-
ment. In this work of gratitude and affection their hearts were
united as the heart of one man, and their hands put to it bearing
offerings for its accomplishment, which if not commensurate with
their zeal and interest, were yet hmited only by their ability to do
and to give. As the plan and design were wholly their own, which
they felt unwilling to have modified even by more gifted minds and
cultivated tastes, so the embodiment of them was effected by their
unaided contributions ; not a dollar having been received from any
hearing and speaking person.

The credit of the general plan of the structure is due to Mr. Albert
Newsam, of Philadelphia, a former pupil of the Pennsylvania Insti-
tution, and one of the most skillful engravers and lithographers in
the United States. The sculptured group on the south panel was
designed by Mr. John Carlin, of New York, a deaf mute artist of
growing skill and reputation. The execution of the work, after hav-
ing been approved by a committee of the Gallaudet Monument Asso-
ciation, composed exclusively of deaf mutes, and formed for this
special purpose, was committed to Mr. James G. Patterson, of Hart-
ford, and his sculptor, Mr. Argenti.

Both in design and execution, this is undoubtedly one of the most
beautiful monuments of its kind, in the United States ; worthy of the
noble name which it is raised to honor. Its whole cost was about
two thousand and five hundred dollars; which was contributed
exclusively by the, deaf and dumb, over six hundred being able to
say that, " I helped to bring into being that beautiful work of art,
and of gratitude."

The monument stands in the grounds of the American Asylum,
nearly in front of the center building, and consists of, first, a platform
of Quincy granite, six feet ten inches square, and ten inches thick —
the plinth is also of granite, six feet square and one foot thick — the
marble base is five feet three inches square, and eighteen inches thick,
richly moulded — the die consists of four panels ; the south one con-
taining a bas-relief, which constitutes altogether the most attractive
feature of the monument.

Mr. Gallaudet is represented in the act of teaching little children

116

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

the manual alphabet. Three children are presented, two boys and one
girl, and the execution of their faces and forms is very beautiful. The

1 ''

1 1

k^'

1 1

l^^nS^^^^&i

M

|||l«____^j|!|

m

• • ■^^MT^*' '

artist has succeeded remarkably well in transferring to the stone the
features of Mr. Gallaudet, and the expression of his countenance.

On the north panel, the name Gallaudet, in the letters of the
manual alphabet, is inscribed in bas-relief. On the east panel is the
following inscription : —

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET, LL, D.,

BORN IN PHILADELPHIA,

DECEMBER 10, 1787,

DIED IN HARTFORD,

SEPTEMBER 10, 1851,

AGED SIXTY-FOUR YEARS.

And, on the west panel, is the following : —

ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF

BEV. THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET, LL. D.,

BY THE DEAF AND DUMB

OF THE UNITED STATES,

AS A TESTIMONIAL

OF PROFOUND GRATITUDE

TO THEIR

EARLIEST AND BEST FRIEND

AND BENEFACTOR.

The die is surmounted by a cap^ upon which rests the base of the
column^ which is two feet six inches square, the column rising to the
height of eleven feet. Upon the south side of the column, surrounded
by radii, is the Syriac word '* Ephphatha," — that is, " be opened ; "
which was spoken by our Saviour when he caused the dumb to speak,
and the blind iQ see. The band which connects the two blocks of the

THOMAS IIOrKINS GALLAUDET.

117

main column, is encircled with a wreath of ivy, the type of immor-
tality ; and the column itself is crowned with an ornate capital^ sur-
mounted by a fflobe. The whole height of the monument is twenty
feet and six inches. It is inclosed with a handsome iron fence, with
granite posts.

The celebration of the completion of the Gallaudet Monument took
place on the 26th of September, 1854, by appropriate exercises and
addresses. The principal address was by Prof. Laurent Clerc, which
embraced a sketch of the life, services, and character of Mr. Gallau-
det, and a history and account of the monument. This was followed
by remarks from the Mayor of the City of Hartford, Hon. Henry C.
Deming, who married a daughter of Prof. Clerc ; by Mr. John Carlin,

lis THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET.

a deaf mute of New York; by Prof. C. C. W. Gamage, a deaf mute
of the New York Institution ; by Rev. Thomas Gallaudet, rector of
St. Ann's Church, for deaf-mutes, in New York ; by Mr. Thomas
Erown, of Ilenniker, N. H. ; by John 0. David, of Amherst, N. H. ;
and, by his Excellency, Henry Dutton, Governor of Connecticut.

There were present on that occasion three hundred and ninety deaf
mutes whose names were entered, from sixteen different States, and
educated in seven different Institutions. The oldest person was sixty-
nine years of age, having finished his studies in Paris in 1805. One
hundred and fifty of them were married. Forty-five husbands were
present with their wives, thirty-one others whose deaf-mute partner
was either absent or dead, and twenty-nine whose partner could hear
and speak. Of the one hundred and five families represented, seven-
t3''-one had children, amounting in all to one hundred and fifty-four.
All of these children could hear except eight, and they belonged to
five different families. In three of these families there was one hear-
ing and one deaf child ; in another, two deaf children ; and, in the
other, three deaf ones. The parents of these children were all deaf-
mutes. About five per cent, of all the children were deaf-mutes, and
the same proportion of families had deaf-mute children in them. Of
one hundred and ninety-three men present whose occupation was
ascertained, one hundred and thirty-five were mechanics, thirty- six
farmers, eight teachers, seven artists, four clerks, two laborers and one
merchant. From their appearance, the account given of themselves,
and information obtained from others, there was good reason to
believe that they were supporting themselves and families in a respect-
able and comfortable manner. The Governor of Connecticut, after
having surveyed the assembly from the elevated platform occupied by
the orator of the day, said in a few closing remarks, that he had
rarely addressed an audience of equal size, exhibiting the appearance
of superior intelligence and respectability. The meeting will long be
remembered by them as a bright day in their calendar. The joyous
recognition of old friends after a long separation ; the renewal of
early friendships ; the interchange of sympathy at the recital of past
sorrows and trials, of congratulation upon the detail of success and
good fortune ; and especially the satisfaction expressed and felt by all
at seeing the great desire of their hearts so happily accomplished,
conspired to make the occasion one of surpassing interest, and one
which they will never cease to call up among the bright visions of the
past. ,

C^'^^J^^^^^^^^^^^r^ ^^/^i^J^i!!^^

iLMvSTET

DENISON OLMSTED.

Denison Olmsted, one of tlie earliest advocates of special institu-
tions for the professional training of teachers in the United States,
and for nearly fifty years a successful teacher, and promoter of educa-
tion and science, was born in East Hartford, Connecticut, on the 18th
of June, 1791. Having lost his father in very early life, his educa-
tion devolved, from the first, on his surviving parent, who will long-
be remembered by those who knew her, for her native strength of
mind, her soundness of judgment, and her uncommon piety and
benevolence. He was early trained to those habits of order, dili-
gence, and perseverance, for which he has been so much distinguished
throughout life. About the age of thirteen, he was placed in a
country store with a view to the mercantile profession ; but he soon
showed so strong a taste for science and literature, as to convince his
associates that he was destined to higher employments. Even at this
early period he became an earnest student of English literature, and
made very considerable advances in the elementary mathematics.
Nothing could satisfy such a mind but the highest advantages for
education ; and, with the reluctant consent of his guardian, he re-
solved, at the age of sixteen, to prepare himself for admission to
Yale College. He accordingly commenced his studies in the year
1807 ; and, with a view to husbanding his limited means, he under-
took the care of a public district school. He thus gained those
practical views of teaching, and that acquaintance with the youthful
mind in its early development, which have made him eminently qual-
ified to prepare text-books in the simplest rudiments, as well as in the
higher departments of science, and to take an active part in promoting
the interests of general education in our country.

Mr. Olmsted entered Yale College in 1809, under the presidency
of Dr. Dwight, then in the maturity of his powers and the hight
of his distinguished reputation. He at once took rank among the
best scholars of his class — a class distinguished for the eminent men
it produced — and graduated with the highest honors of the institu-
tion in the autumn of 1813, when he delivered an oration on the
"Causes of Intellectual Greatness." He immediately resumed his
favorite employment of teaching ; and for two years had Ihu charge

120 DENISON OLMSTED.

of a select school in New London, Connecticut, where he was emi-
nently successful both in discii)line and instruction.

In 1815, he was chosen to the tutorship in Yale College — a labo-
rious and responsible ofEce, which he filled, with great acceptance to
his j)upils and the faculty, for two years, when he accepted the
appointment of Professor of Chemistry in the University of North
Carolina, remaining at Yale the following year, as a private pupil of
Professor Silliman. There, associated with President Caldwell, Pro-
fessor Elisha Mitchell, Prof. Ethan A. Andrews, and Professor William
IIooj)er, he had the satisfaction of seeing the university take an eleva-
ted rank among the higher seminaries of the country. During his con-
nection with the Univei-sity of North Carolina, lie commenced, under
the auspices of the legislature, a geological survey of that state, which
was the first attempt of the kind in this country.

In 1825, Professor Olmsted was called to the chair of mathematics
and natural philosophy in Yale College, which had been filled with
eminent success by his classmate. Professor Fisher, who perished in
the Albion, on his outward voyage to Europe for scientific improve-
ment, in 1 822 ; and afterward by Professor Dutton. The duties of
the two professorships were discharged by him until 1835, when he
resigned the chair of mathematics to Professor Anthony D. Stanley,
whose genius and attainments in these studies he had helped to foster
and mature.

Professor Olmsted is the author of several text-books, originally
prepared to meet the wants of his own college classes, but Avhich
have taken their place among the standard works of the country.
His ^'■Natural Philoso'phy''' appeared in 1831, and was followed
within a year by the ^'School Philosophy,^'' adapted to academies and
high schools ; both have had, and still have, a wide circulation — the
latter having passed through nearly one hundred editions. In 1 830, he
published '■'AatronomT/'' for college classes, which was followed by a com-
pendium under the title of ^^ School Astronomy.*^ In 1842, apj)earcd
Lis ^'■Rudiments of Natural Philosophy and Astronomy^'' adapted to
pupils in elementary schools, both public and private. This little
work luvs passed through fifty editions, and has been printed in
raised letters for the use of instituiions for the blind, having been
selected by Dr. Howe for it^ clear, accurate, comprehensive presenta-
tion of the fundamental principles of the sciences of which it treats.
His '''Letters on Astronomy''* was prepared as a reading-book hr
the School Library, commenced under the auspices of the Massachu-
setts Board of Education. It has been used extensively and as a
text-book, especially in f.male seminnries. Professor Olmsted brings

DENISOX OLMSTED.

121

to his preparation of text-books a full and familiar acquaintance with
th(3 subjects treated, and a practical knowledge of successful methods
of teaching the same.

Professor Olmsted deserves honorable mention in the history of
popular education in the United States, for his early and continued
advocacy and labors in behalf of improvement in elementary schools.
In an oration delivered at the commencement exercises of Yale Col-
lege, in 1816, on taking his degree of Master of Arts, he took for his
subject, ^'The State of EducAition in Connecticut^ In this address he
pointed out "the ignorance and incompetency of schoolmasters" as
the primary cause of the low condition of the common schools, and
appealed to public and private liberality to establish and support insti-
tutions of a higher grade, where a better class of teachers might be
trained for the lower schools. To meet a great evil by a special rem-
edy, and at the same time advance the condition of popular educa-
tion generally, he had already projected the plan of ''''An Academy
for Schoolmasters.'''* We have before us a communication of his,
in which he specifies the steps by which he was led to his concep-
tion of such a seminary.

" My course as a teacher began with a small district school, when I was seven-
teen years of age, and while fitting for college. 1 had there a full opportunity to
become acquainted with the state of education as it then existed in our village
schools. Oil leaving college, in 1813, I resumed the profession of teacher (which
I have followed ever since,) by taking charge of Union School, at New London.
This was a select school, supported by a few of the first families of the place, who
desired t»i obtain for their sons a superior training for business or for college, ac-
cording to their destination in life. It had been continued for several generations,
and had enjoyed the instruction of a series of eminent teachers, among whom
were the ceh-biated Nathan Hale, Hon. Jacob B. Gurley,Ebene'/er Learned, Esq.,
Doctor Jonathiui Knight, of the medical department in Yale College, and Prof.
Ebenezer Kellogg, of Williams College. The propi'ietors, desiring to have their sons
educated exclusively in that school, after leaving the rudimentciry female schools,
introduced them at the early age of eight or nine years, and kept them there until
they went to business or to college. Tfie number was limited to thirty, but the
variety of age, and the different professions in life for which tliey were destined,
occasioned an unusual range of studies. Some were in the spelling book; some
in English grammar and geography ; some in the languages, from Lsitin gi'am-
mar to Virgil's Georgics and Xenophon's Anabasis ; and some in different branches
of mathematics, from simple arithmetic to algebra, surveying, and navigation.
It required the most exact order and method to cortiplete the round of recitations
in half a day, and secure, for the whole school, half an hour for penmanship at
the close of the forenoon, and half an hour for reading at the close of the after-
noon.

I had here full opportunity of comparing the effect of different courses of study
upon lads of similar age, and soon discovered a marked difference, in intelligence
and capacity, between those who were studying the languages and mathematics
preparatory to entering college, and devote<l oidy a small portion of every day to
the common rudiments, as English granunar, geography, reading, writing, and
spelling, and those who spent all their time in those elementary .<tudies. I was
surprised to find that the former excelled the latter even in a knowledgj of these
very studies; they read better, spelt better, wrote better, and were better versed
in grammar and geography. One inference I drew from this observation was,
that an extended course of studies, proceeding far beyond the simple rudiinents of

122 DENISON OLMSTED.

an English education, is not inconsistent with acquiring a good knowledge of
those rudiments, but is highly favorable to it ; since, on account of the superior
capacity developed by the higher branches of study, the rudiments may be better
learned in less time; and a second inlerencc was, that nothing was wanted in
order to raise all our common schools to a far higher level, so as to embrace the
elements of English literature, of the natural sciences, and of the mathematics,
but competent teachers and the necessary books.

I was hence led to the idea of a ' Seminary for Schoolmasters,' to be established
at the expense of the state ; where the instruction, at least, should be gratuitous.
It was to be under the direction of a principal and an assistant ; the principal to be
a man of liberal education, of a high order of talent, and an experienced and suc-
cessful teacher. The assistant was to be well versed in the English branches of
education, at least. The course of study was to occupy from one to two jears, and
candidates were to be admitted only after an approved examination. The pupils
were to study and recite whatever they were themselves afterward to teach, partly
for the purpose of acquiring a more perfect knowledge of those subjects, and partly
of learning from the methods adopted by the principal the best modes of teaching.
It was supposed that only a small portion of time would be required to be spent
upon the simple rudiments, but that the greater part might be devoted to English
grammar and geography, arithmetic, algebra, geometry, and such works as Blair's
Rhetoric ; studies adapted to improve the taste, and make correct and accomplished
writers. Ample instructions also were to be given by the principal on the organi-
zation and government of a school.

A class of sixty pupils, sent out from the seminary every year, would in ten
years furnish to the village schools a body of able teachers, who would raise the
standard of education in the common schools to a level with that of the 'academies,'
which were scattered here and there over the state, being designed to affl)rd to
the few who could bear the expense, opportunities for learning those higher
branches of an English education, which were not attempted at the common
schools. Few of the whole number of children, however, enjoyed these superior
advantages ; but the greater part finished their education at tlie village schools,
with nothing more than reading, spelling, writing, and a little arithmetic. ]Not
even grammar and geography were at that time taught in the common schools.

There was one very encouraging feature in my plan. No sooner would this
superior order of schoolmasters commence their labors, than the schools them-
selves would begin to furnish teachers of a higher order. The schoolmasters
previously employed, were for the most part such as had receivetl all their educa-
tion at the common schools, and could only perpetuate the meager system of beg-
garly elements which they had learned; but it was obvious that schools, trained
in a more extended course of studies, would produce teachers of a corresponding
character. Therefore, if we could once start the machine, it would go on by its
own momentum.

At the commencement at Yale College, in 1816, when I took my master's
degree, I brought the outlines of this plan before the audience, in an oration on
the 'State of Education in Connecticut.' I was then a tutor in the college, and
zealously engaged in instructing a class ; but I did not lose sight of this favorite idea
of an ' Academy for Schoolmasters.' I also laid out a scheme for an extended
course of newspaper essays, which would fully bring the subject before the public,
and took every opportunity to present the plan to individuals of eminence, who
were likely to feel interested in the improvement of our common schools, or who
had influence in the public councils. Should the proposed essays have the desired
effect of arousing public attention to the importance of the plan, I next intended
to endeavor to have it brought before the legislature, with the view of securing
means for carrying it into immediate execution.

At that moment I unexpectedly received the appointment of Professor of Chem-
istry iu the University of North Carolina. The question was submitted to my
friends, whether I should accept the invitation, or remain here and endeavor to
carry out my plan for the establishment of a ' Seminary for Schoolmasters.' The
slender prospect of interesting the community in the scheme, and the extreme
backwardness of our legislature to appropriate funds for the promotion of educa-
tion, in any other manner than that to which the school fund was exclusively
ievoted, led me to yield, though very reluctantly, to the advice of my friends, and

DENISON OLMSTED. 123

accept the appointment from abroad. I had less occasion to regret this decision,
since the idea of normal schools was shortly afterward conceived by the Rev.
Thomas II. Gallaudet, James G. Carter, Esq., Governor Dewitt Clinton, and others,
and brought before the public by them under circumstances so much more favorable
than I could have commanded, had I remained to prosecute my favorite enter-
prise."

As a member of the Board of Commissioners of Common Schools
for Connecticut in 1840, Prof. Ohnsted, in drafting the annual Report
of the Board to the Legislature, thus returns to the subject which
first arrested his attention twenty-five years before.

Wherever normal schools have been established and ably sustained, the experi-
ment has uniformly resulted in supplying teachers of a superior order. As in
every other art whose principles are reduced to rule, and matured into a system,
the learner is not limited to the slow and scanty results of his single, unaided ex-
perience, but is at once enriched with the accumulated treasures of all who have
labored in the same mine before him. Without such an opportunity, he may be
compared to the medical practitioner, who commences his labors without the
knowledge of any settled principles of his art, but expects to acquire his knowledge
of his profession in the course of his practice. If it is plain that the physician
needs, at the commencement of his career, that knowledge of the healing art
which contains the embodied experience of those who have gone before him, and
carried his profession to the highest degree of excellence, no less does the in-
structor of a school need the wisdom of his predecessors to guide him, at his first
setting out ; nor can he any better affijrd to wait for the slow returns of his own
experience. Indeed, there is, in the case of the young teacher, a peculiar need of
this wisdom in advance, since the employment is not usually a business for life,
but only of a few years at furthest, — a period in itself too short to gain much of
the wisdom of experience, and terminated almost as soon as such wisdom begins
to be acquired.

The employment of female te.\chers to a much greater extent than has hith-
erto been done, deserves much consideration from the friends of this cnuse.
Heaven has plainly appointed females as the natural instructors of young children,
and endowed them with those qualities of mind and disposition which pre-emi-
nently fit them for such a task. Endued with a greater measure of the gentleness
so winning and grateful to the feelings of a child, and of the patient foi'bearanee
60 essential to those who are inculcating the first rudiments of knowledge, their
action on the mind and disposition of the child is peculiarly auspicious. Nor,
indeed, is the sphere of woman confined to training the minds of pupils in the
mere elementary branches; when her own mind is disciplined, and exalted by
cultivation, and enriched with knowledge, she exhibits powers of communicating
instruction, and indeed all the attributes requisite for teaching and governing a
school, no wise inferior to those of the other sex. Experiments, as far as they
have gone, encourage the belief that well-educated females may bear a far more
extensive and important part in the instruction and government of our common
schools than they have hitherto done ; that here is to be found the means, so
desirable, of a division of labor in schools, when the numbers are too great for one
preceptor. A signal relief to the preceptor himself, and no less advantage to the
pupils, will result from a separation of the school into two departments, the younger
-pupils being committed to a female assistant, while older pupils enjoy almost the
Bole attention of the principal. But if females are to bear so important and exten-
sive a part in the instruction of common schools, provision must also be made for
their training in normal schools ; and, in the disposition of any funds appropriated
to the education of teachers, females, destined for this profession, ought to come in
for their due proportion.

In the opinion of the Board, we can not make an adequate provision for the
supply of the requisite number of teachers, who slmll be at once capable of teach-
ing, in the best manner, all that the pupils of our common schools are capable of
learning, and of conducting the order and government of their institutions, accord-
ing to the most approved methods, without the establishment of normal schools,
devoted exclusively to the education of teachers, in the principles and practice of

124 DENISON OLMSTED.

their profession, and guided by men eminent for their talents and practical wisdom.
But if it is thought that we are not prepared to erect and sustain Seminaries of
this independent and elevated descripiton, tlie Board would suggest tlie expediency
of commencing the work of educating teachers on a limited scale, by connecting a
department for this purpose, with some of the existing academies in ditferent sec-
tions of the State. A small amount of funds, judiciously expended in the modes
indicated by the Secretary in his Report, would, in the opinion of the Board, ac-
complish a great, immediate good in improving the qualifications of our common
school teachers.

Professor Olmsted has been one of the few teachers in our higher
seminaries of learning-^ who have assisted, from the start, by their
presence and co-operation the efforts of the friends of common schools
and popular education. His sympathies have been with those who
have labored for the improvement of the schools of his native state
prior to 1826, down to the present time. In 1838, he delivered a
lecture before the American Institute of Instruction on the School
System of Connecticut, in which, after an interval of nearly a quarter
of a century, he points again to the absence of an institution for the
education of teachers as the great defect in the school system of the
state. In 1845, before the same association, he drew the Ideal of a
Perfect Teacher. Thorough, accurate, and comprehensive knowl-
edge,— high religious character, deep enthusiastic love of his work
and faith in its results, a strong and clear intellect, a lively imagina-
tion, good taste and good manners constitute the indispensable ele-
ments of a teacher of the people. lie has responded cheerfully to
the call of the Superintendent of Common Schools to address Teach-
ers' Institutes and Teachers' Associations, and has repeatedly lectured
in the Hall of the House of Representatives, during the session of the
Legislature, when any action was to be had in either branch concern-
ing common schools. He has availed himself at all times of the
lyceum and the popular lecture, as well as of the daily press, to ap-
ply the principles of science to the explanation of extraordinary
phenomena of meteorology and astronomy, as well as to the advance-
ment of dome-itic comfort and popular improvement generally. In
an Essay read before the American x\ssociation for the Advancement
of Education, at New York in 1855, he showed, in a felicitous man-
ner, thajt the whole drift and tendency of science in its inventions and
institutions is democratic.

His more elaborate scientific papers have appeared in the ^^Ameri-
can Journal of Science,'" the ^''Tranaaciions of the American Asso-
ciation for the Advancement of Science, ^^ and the ^''Smithsonian Con-
tributions.'''' He has also been a frequent contributor to the " Christian
Si^ectator,^'^ and the ''''New Englanderr

0-^^^^5<!:^^ ^^^^^

EDUCATIOXAL SERVICES OF MRS. EM)IA WILLARD.

By Prof. Henky Fowler, Rochester University, N. Y.

Mils. WiLLARD was bom Feb. 23d, 1787, in the Worthington
parisli of Berlin, Connecticut. She is of pure English blood, of
the good old Puritan stock. Her father, Samuel Hart, was de-
scended from Thomas Hooker, one of the founders of Connecticut.
H^r mother was Lydia Hinsdale, of a family of marked ability
and excellence.

Samual Hart, Mrs. Willard's father, being an only son, was
designed for a liberal profession, and was nearly fitted for college
when his father died, and left the care of his mother, sisters, and
the farm upon his young shoulders. He bravely undertook the
burden and bore it manfully ; indeed, with such success that its
weight seemed to his strong nature to bear too lightly, and to need
at the age of nineteen the addition of a wife.

At the age of thirty-three, he was left a widower with six chil-
dren, and he had lost one in its infancy. He had already become
a light in the church and a pillar in the State. In a little more
than a year he was married to the mother of Mrs. Willard, ten
years younger than himself, who bore him ten children. Of the
seventeen, thirteen reached mature life.

The father and mother resembled each other in their puritan
piety, honesty and sincerity, which knew no guile, — and in their
Christian benevolence, which seemed to discern no difference
among the needy creatures of the one Father; and thus they
passed their many days in an unbroken harmony, which the stern
pressure of incessant labors could not chafe, nor increasing cares,
nor sickness, nor bending years, do aught but strengthen. Yet
they were in leading characteristics strikingly different, and theirs
was the happy union of opposites, which round out the complete
ONE. She was practical, quietly executive, severely but unwaver-
ingly industrious ; and although well educated for her day, and
tenderly reared, and excelling in all the delicate fabrics of the
needle, she had in full perfection the New-England trait of making
much out of little, and a little out of nothing. She had the true
economy, not of selfish hoarding, but of industriously producing,
carefully preserving and wisely distributing. As an instance, on
sorting the wool, as was the women's part, after the shearing in

126 MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

the spring — when the best portion had been laid aside as material
for the father's clothes, the second best selected for other "men's
wear," the third best for the *' women's wear," then family flannel
and blanketing were to be provided for, and afterwards coarse
remnants laid aside for mops. There yet remained scattered tags
and burred clippings ; — to be burnt ? No, not so. They were
gathered by themselves, and her little girls, "Nancy and Emma,"
were quietly told by their mother that they might take their has-
kets, when their work was done, and carry it to the pasture field
(where they loved to go), and scatter it upon the bushes which grew
around the pond, so tiiat the birds might find it to build their nests
with. Thoughtful loving woman ! — sublime in that charity which
embraces all the creatures of God. "Gather up the fragments
that nothing be lost," she had read as the words of her loved Mas-
ter, and in imitation of Him, she " considered the fowls of the air
which your Fleavenly Father feedeth." And it is this same
wise bestowal of the fragments, in imitation of the mother by the
daughter, which has made the Troy Seminary a source of daily
support and comfort, through many years, to outside poor, number-
ing at times many families.*

And it was this true economy which enabled the mother, in spite
of the smallness of an income whose limits were inversely pro-
portioned to the size of her family, always to exercise with cordial
welcome and in unrestricted measure, the sacred rites of a New-
England hospitality ; and besides, always to have one or more old
persons in the home to be cared for, nursed and cheered, and some-
times to be supported ; at one time her husband's mother, then her
own parents, afterwards a brother, poor and diseased, and once a
disabled soldier. Hospitality is a pleasant luxury when one's
bell-call is answered by trained servants, when the house purse
is never lean, and the keys always turn upon a bounteous larder;
but when the mistress of the home (assisted perhaps indeed by her
daughters), is not only the entertainer, but also her own cook,
baker, dairy-maid, and laundress ; nay more, the carder of the
wool for her husband's clothes, the hatcheler of the flax for the
table linen, the motive power of the wheel which spins, and of
the loom which weaves — then hospitality rises out of a pleasant
luxury into a Christian virtue, almost sublime.

The father's tastes were always literary and scientific. The
brief life in boyhood had quickened in him an earnest love of

* " That Seminary will never bum," said once a faithful Irish domestic. " Too
much good has been done from it to the poor."

MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

127

knowledge, and his inquiring spirit was ever seeking its appropri-
ate life in the midst of books and writing. In the winter's even-
ing he was in the habit of gathering with wife and daughters
around the ample fire-place, and reading to them — history, travels,
metaphysics — even Locke and Berkley ; poetry — Milton, Thomp-
son, Young ; some fiction of the best — their pleasure only sur-
passed by his ; reading, interspersed with curious questions, anec-
dotes, lively discussions, and happy repartee ; for independent opin-
ions, and their brave maintenance, was the order of the household.

It was well for the father that he and his family were happy at
home, for he had cut himself and them from sources of wealth
and honor, which his talents might have obtained. Soon after his
second marriage, Captain Hart had been compelled to sacrifice
influence and worldly prospects to his honest defence, against
what he esteemed bigotry and persecution. Two of his neighbors,
Gideon Williams and Nathaniel Cole, could not conscientiously
pay for the preaching of the place, and became "separatists." At
that time the tax for the support of the minister was assessed and
collected like the tax for the support of the ofiicers of the state,
and the refusal of those men to pay resulted in their imprisonment
in the Hartford jail. Captain Hart was troubled at this severe ex-
ercise of power, especially as he was the church treasurer, and
the warrants for arrest were issued in his name.

He therefore called a society meeting, advocated toleration, but
was sustained in his views by only one vote besides his own. He
immediately resigned his office, withdrew from the church, paid
the taxes and charges against Williams and Cole, although he
could ill afllDfd to do it, and released them from prison. Manifold
were the dealings, private and public, to restore the protesting of-
fender to the bosom of the church. Pathetic appeals alternated
with threats. One of the prominent men in one of these con-
versations with Captain Hart, said, "You must not leave us. We
cannot spare you. Without your abilities to direct us, what can
we do?" "Mr. Webster," replied he, "there are two things in
religion which I despise ; the one is force, and the other flattery."

Desirable offices were forthwith resigned, or barred. He had
represented the town ; and perhaps there was no man of his age
in the State, more in the high road to preferment.

It was the independence of character thus acquired, the love of
knowledge thus imparted by the father, united to this energetic
economy, thus enforced by the mother, which has given the daugh-
ter a capacity to establish and perfect an institution, whose success
depended equally upon self-reliance, intellectual, inspiration, and

128 ^l^S. EilMA WILLARD.

executive ability. To tliese should be added another element
of success — physical health, and a firm constitution, which Mrs.
Willard and her sister, Mrs. Plieljis, inherited from their parents
as the best of legacies.

EARLY EDUCATION.

An account of Mrs. Willard's early education, we are able to
present from a sketch by herself: —

" In my childhood I attended the district school, but mostly from
causes already related, none ol my teachers so understood me as
to awaken my powers or gain much influence over me. My father,
happily for his children, left to his own family, used to teach
us of evenings, and read aloud to us ; and in this way I
became interested in books and a voracious reader. A village
library supplied me with such books as Plutarch's Lives, Rollins'
Ancient History, Gibbon's Rome, many books of travels, and the
most celebrated of the British poets and essayists.

Near the close of my fifteenth year, a new academy was
opened about three-quarters of a mile from my father's house, of
which Thomas Miner, a graduate, and once a tutor of Yale Col-
lege, was the Principal, afterwards well known as an eminent
physician president of the State Medical Society, and one of the
most learned men of our country. Before the opening of the
Academy, my mother's children had each received a small divi-
dend from the estate of a deceased brother. My sister Nancy*
determined, as our parents approved, to spend this in being taught
at the new school ; but having at that time a special desire to make
a visit among my married brothers and sisters in Kensington,
(whose children were of my own age), I stood one evening, can-
dle in hand, and made to my parents, who had retired for the
night, what they considered a most sensible oration, on the folly of
people's seeking to be educated above their means and prescribed
duties in life. So Nancy went to school, and I to Kensington. A
fortnight after, one Friday evening, I returned. Nancy snowed

t Mrs. Almira Lincoln Phelps is the younger sister of Mrs. Willard, the seven-
teenth and last child of Samuel Hart. She is |vidcly known as the author of
Mrs. Lincoln's Botany, and of Mrs. Phelp's ckemistry, and she was also the
Principal of the Patapsco Female Institute, of Maryland, which, under her presi-
dency, was a younger relative and harmonious competitor of the Troy Seminary;
the system modified, however, by the commanding talents of the Principal, as
times and circumstances required. Mrs. Phelps is a woman of remarkable ener-
gies and accomplishments, and has been greatly successful both as an author and
teacher.

* The late Mrs. Nancy Simmons, of Kew Philadelphia, Ohio.

MRS. EMMA WILLAnO. 129

mo her books and told mc of licr lessons. 'Mother,' said 1, *I
am going to school to-morrow.* *Why, I thought you had made
up your mind not to bo educated, and besides, your clothes are
not in order, and it will appear odd for you to enter school Satur-
day.' But Saturday morninj; I went, and received my lessons in
Webster's Grammar and Morse's Geography. Mr. Miner was to
hear mc recite by myself until I overtook the class, in which were
a dozen fine girls, including my elder sister. Monday, Mr. Miner
called on me to recite. He began with Webster's Grammar, went
on and on, and still as he questioned received from me a ready an-
swer, until he said, 'I will hear the remainder of your lesson to-
morrow.' The same thing occurred with the Geography lesson.
I was pleased, and thought, 'you never shall get to the end of my
lesson.' That hard chapter on the planets, with their diameters,
distances, and periodic revolutions, was among the first of Morse's
Geography. The evening I wished to learn it, my sister Lydia*
had a party. The house was full of bustle, and above all rose
the song-singing, which always fascinated me. The moon was at
the full, and snow was on the ground. I wrapt my cloak around
me, and out of doors of a cold winter evening, seated on a horse-
block, I learned that lesson. Lessons so learnt are not easily for-
gotten. The third day Mr. Miner admitted me to my sister's class.
He used to require daily compositions. I never failed, the only
one of my class who did not; but I also improved the oppor-
tunities which these afforded, to pay him ofT for any criticism by
which he had (intentionaally though indirectly) hit me, — with some
parody or rhyme, at which, though sometimes pointed enough, Mr.
Miner would heartily laugh, — never forgetting, however, at some
time or other, to retort witli interest. Thus my mind was stimu.
lated, and my progress rapid. For two successive years, 1802-3,
I enjoyed the advantages of Dr. Miner's school, and I believe that
no better instruction was given to girls in any school, at that time,
in our country.

My life at tl)is time was much influenced by an attachment I
formed with Mrs. Peck, a lady of forty, although I was only
fifteen. When we were first thrown together, it was for several
days, and she treated me not as a child, but an equal — confiding
to me much of that secret history which every heart sacredly
cherishes; and I, on my part, opened to her my whole inner life,
my secret feelings, anxieties and aspirations. Early in the spring
of 1804, when I had just passed seventeen, Mrs. Peck proposed
♦Afterwards Mrs. Elisha Treat.

120 3^''S. EMMA WILLARD.

that a cliildrcn's sciiool in the vilhigo, s'nouLl be put into my
hands.

The school. house was situated in VVorthington street, on the
great Huitford and New Haven turnpike ; and was surrounded on
the otiier liirce sides by a mulberry grove, towards which the
windows were in summer kept open.

At nine o'clock, on that first morning, I seated myself among
the children to begin a profession which I little thought was to
last with slight interruption for forty years. That morning was
t!ie longest of my life. I began my work by trying to discover
the several capacities and degrees of advancement of the children,
so as to arrange them in classes ; but they having been, under my
predecessor, accustomed to the greatest license, would, at their op-
tion, go to the street door to look at a passing carriage, or stepping
on to a bench in the rear, dash out of a window, and take a lively
turn in the mulberry grove. Talking did no good. Reasoning
and pathetic appeals were alike unavailing. Thus the morning
slowly wore away. At noon I explained this first great perplex-
ity of my teacher-life to my friend Mrs. Peck, who decidedly ad-
vised sound and summary chastisement. ' I cannot,' I replied ;
*I never struck a child in my life.' * It is,' she said, *the only
way, and you must.' I left her for the afternoon school with a
heavy heart, still hoping I might find some way of avoiding what
I could not deliberately resolve to do. I found the school a
scene of uproar and confusion, which I vainly endeavored to
quell. Just then, Jesse Peck, my friend's little son, entered with
a bundle of five nice rods. As he laid them on the table before
nnd, my courage rose; and, in the temporary silence which en-
sued, I laid down a few laws, the breaking of which would be
followed with immediate chastisement. For a few moments the
children were silent; but they had been used to thretitening, and
soon a boy rose from his seat, and, as he was stepping to the door,
I took one of the sticks and ffave him a moderate floiiijinn: ; then
with a grip upon his arm which made him feel that I was in
earnest, put him into his seat. Hoping to make this chastisement
answer for the whole school, I then told them in the most endear-
ing manner I could command, that I was there to do them good —
to make them such fine boys and girls that their parents and
friends would be delighted with them, and they be jrrowing up
liappy and useful ; but in order to this I must and would have
their obedience. If I had occasion to punish again it would be
more and more severely, until they yielded, and were trying to be

MRS. EMMA WILLAllD. \r^\

good. But the children still lacked faith in my words, and if my
recollection serves nic, I spent most of the afternoon in alternate
whippings and exhortations, the former always inci-easing in in-
tensify, until at last, finding the difference between capricious
anger and steadfast determination, they submitted. This was
the first and last of corporeal punishment in that school. The
next morning, and ever after, I had docile and orderly scholars.
^ I was careful duly to send them out for recreation, to make their
studies pleasant and interesting, and to praise them when they did
well, and mention to their parents their good behavior.

Our school was soon the admiration of the neighborhood. Some
of the literati of the region heard of the marvelous progress the
children made, and of classes formed* and instruction given in
higher branches; and coming to visit us, they encouraged me in
my school, and gave me valuable commendation.

At the close of this summer school, I determined to seek abroad
advantages, especially in drawing and painting, with reference to
future teaching. The two only remaining sons of my mother had
become merchants in Petersburg, Virginia, and were able and
willing to furnish assistance to their younger sisters, and also to
relieve our parents from ihe dread of indebtedness, which atone
time their utmost exertions could scarcely keep from crossing the
domestic threshold."

The way was thus opened for Miss Hart's attendance upon a
school at Hartford. The few following years of alternate teach-
ing and attending the schools of Mrs. Royce and the Misses Pat-
tens of Hartford, we have not now time to note minutely. They
were characterized by unforeseen difficulties overcome, unsus-
pected energies developed, and highly prized friendships created ;
Providence as usual helping the self-helpful.

The solicitation to take charge of the Berlin school, where
school days had been enjoyed under Dr. Miner, was a gratifying
circumstance, and the successful management of that school for a
year and a half, no less so. It was while in charge of this school,
in the spring of 1S07, just after she had passed her twentieth
birthday, that Miss Hart was invited to teach in three other states.
Westfield, Massachusetts; Middlebury, Vermont, and Hudson,
New York. Each proposal was a good one. The proximity of
Westfield to home was the deciding attraction.

Here Miss Hart found herself very pleasantly situated, as female
assistant in the academy which has so long sustained so good a
* 111 one of these was ilrs. Willard's youngest sister, now Mrs. Phelps.

232 ^^^'S. EM.MA WILLAHD.

reputation, — and soon won the esteem and affection of her pupils
and the excellent inhabitants of Westfield. But her labors were
hardly equal to her capacity or ambition, and therefore she ac-
cepted a second call to Middlebury, to take the entire charge of
its female school. The trustees of Westfield academy reluctantly
gave their consent to her leaving.* In the summer of 1807, Miss
Hart commenced her labors at Middlebury. For one year the
school was a brilliant success, when some denominational jealousy,
spiced perhaps by some personal envy, bore fruit in a combination
to break down the school. The effort marred for a while without
permanently injuring ; while it caused a good deal of personal
suffering, it insured the vigorous support o^ strong friends, — and
especially rallied to her defense a gentleman of leading position,
hitherto unknown to her, who not many months after persuaded
the successful schoolhiistress, at the age of twenty. two, to become
the presiding genius of his home and heart. Dr. John Willard
was at that time a prominent politician of the Republican party,
being marshall of the state of Vermont, under Jefferson's adminis-
tration, and supervisor of the direct tax at that time laid by the
general government. Not only his personal character but also
his profession and his politics attracted, for she had always a taste
for the study of physiology, and had improved by the society of
eminent physicians of Connecticut ; f and she was from a cfiild
noted for interesting herself in the politics of the day, being
strongly allied by sympathy and association with the Republican
party, who were opposed to her father's persecutors and opponents.
The connection proved a happy one. She was ever the devoted
and honoring wife, and he the considerate, faithful, and proud hus-
band. He was always thoroughly interested in his wife's educa-
tional enterprises, and also in her scientific investigations, and ma-
terially aided her by his practical good sense and wide experience.
^Nothing was undertaken by her without his approbation, and while
he lived he was the entire manager of the financial concerns of
the family and school.

* The ensuing spring the tnistees requested her to return to Westfield, sayuig
she miglit as to salary make her own terms.

+ Be-ldi'S her teacher, Dr. Miner, -with -whom she corresponded, and -svho felt
great pride in lier school at Troy, which he visited, (telling on one occasion most
facetiously what the old sexton said when the dean's sei-mon was praised, " but
you must remember 'twas I that rung the bell,") — Dr. Sylvester Wells, of
Hartford, her first cousin, the firm friend of her youth,— Dr. Wadsworth, of
S<mthingfon. the father of I\ancy Wadsworth, her most intimate school friend :
ard Dr. Todd, — between whom and herself there existed a friendship which lasted
until his death.

5IRS. EMMA WiLLAUD.

13:

THE EDUCATIONAL LIFE OF ?.IKS. ■WILLARD.

Soon after the marriage, Dr. Willard met with unexpected but
severe financial reverses, which determined Mrs. Willard, witii
his consent, to undertake again the teacher's profession ; and in
1814 she opened a boarding school. And now we come to what
constitutes distinctively the educational life of Mrs. Willard.

Previous experiences, experiments, ofibrts, trials, and successes,
had been but the training for this lift>, not the life itself. Her
teaching at Berlin, Westficld, Middlebury, were like the society
debates of the student, only preparation to the real debates in the
Court House or the Capitol. She had tested her powers; she had
determined and remedied some of her deficiencies; she had
made choice of principles and methods, and modes, which seemed
best adapted to develop, control, discipline, encourage. She had
entered upon spheres of acquisition; she had originated some new
schemes for instruction, and had, to some extent, experimented and
experimented with success; and she had felt the first glow of that
enthusiasm in education, which has now to pervade her being and
mould her life. The creative genius had already been at work,
but it was only fitful and tentative ; now it has to labor steadily,
undeviatingly, successfully. The day of experiments and of
training, gives place to the day of results and of triumphs ; — a
great cause inspires effort, and consecration is the forming power
of her life— consecration to the great cause of female education.

It is a pleasure to be able to present a sketch of the development
of Mrs. Willard's educational life in her own words, taken
from a record made for a friend, in 1841.

"When I began my boarding school in Middlebury, in 1814,
my leading motive was to relieve my husband from financial diffi-
culties. I had also the further object of keeping a better school
than those about me ; but it was not until a year or two after, that
I formed the design of effecting an important change in education,
by the introduction of a grade of schools for women, higher than
any heretofore known. My neighborhood to Middlebury College,
made me bitterly feel the disparity in educational facilities between
the two sexes ; and I hoped that if the matter was once set before
the men as legislators, they would be ready to correct the error.
The idea that such a thing might possibly be effected by my means,
seemed so presumptuous that I hesitated to entertain it, and for a
short time concealed it even from my husband, although I knew
that he sympathized in my general views. 1 began to write (be-

12^ MRS. HMMA \^'ILLARD.

causo I could thus best arrange my ideas.) 'an address to the

Le^nsluture, proposing a plan for improving Female Education.'
1l was not till two years after that I filled up the blank. No one
knew of my writing it, except my husband, until a year after it
was completed, (181G) for I knew that I should be regarded as
visionary, almost to insanity, should I utter tlie expectations
which I secretly entertained in connection with it. But it was not
merely on the strength of my arguments that I relied. I de-
termined to inform myself, and increase my personal influence and
fame as a teacher ; calculating that in this way I might be sought
for in other places, where influential men would carry my project
before some legislature, for the sake of obtaining a good school.
My exertions meanwhile, became unremitted and intense. My
school grew to seventy pupils. I spent from ten to twelve
hours a day in teaching, and on extraordinary occasions, as pre-
paring for examination, fifteen ; besides, always having under in-
vestigation some one new subject which, as I studied, 1 simulta-
neously taught to a class of my ablest pupils. Hence every new
term some new study was introduced ; and in all their studies, my
pupils were very thoroughly trained. In classing my school for
the term of study, which was then about three months, I .gave to
each her course, (being careful not to give too much) with the
certain expectation, that she must be examined on it at the close of
the term. Then I was wont to consider that my first duty as a
teacher, required of me that I should labor to make my pupils by
explanation and illustration understand their subject, and get them
warmed into it, by making them see its beauties and its advantages.
During this first part of the process, I talked much more than the
pupils were required to do, keeping their attention awake by fre-
quent questions, requiring short answers fro»n the whole class, —
for it was ever my maxim, if attention fails, the teacher fi\ils.
Then in the second stage of my teaching, I made each scholar re-
cite, in order that she might remember — paying special attention
to the meaning of words, and to discern whether the subject was
indeed understood without mistake. Then the third process was
to make the pupil capable of communicating.* And doing tliis in

* This threcfolrj process, in some studies, as the Phllosopliy of the illnd. of
Tvhich an entire view should be taken, requires the whole term ; in othci-s, as in
geography and history, parts may be taken, and the pupils nnade thoroug^h in each
as they go along. In mathematics the three steps of the process are to be gone
through with, as the teacher proceeds with every distinct proposition. But still,
there will, in every well-mstructed class, be this three-fuld order prevailing, and

MIIS. LIIMA WILL.MID. j.)^-

a right mani.cr, was to prepare her for cxanunatioii. At this time
I personally examined all my classes.

This thorough teaching added rapidly to my reputation. Another
important feature of a system, thus requiring careful drill
and correct enunciation, was manifested by the examinations.
The pupils, there acquired character and confidence. Schol-
ars thus itistructed were soon capable of teaching ; and here were
now forming my future teachers; and some were soon capable
of aiding me in arranging the new studies, which I was constantly
engaged in introducing.

Here I began a series of improvements in geography — sepa-
rating and first teaching what could he learned from maps — then
treating the various subjects of population, extent, length of rivers,
&;c., by comparing country with country, river with river, and
city with city, — making out with the assistance of my pupils, those
tables which afterwards appeared in Woodbridge and Willard's
Geographies. Here also began improvements in educational his-
tory. Moral Philosophy came next, with Paley for the author,
and Miss Hemingway for the first scholar; and then the Philos-
ophy of the Mind — Locke the author, and the first scholars, Eliza
Hensh|iw, Katharine Battey, and Minerva Shipherd.

The professors of the college attended my examinations ; although
I was by the President advised, that it would not be becoming in
me, nor be a safe precedent, if I should attend theirs. So, as
I had no teacher in learning my new studies, I had no model in
teaching, or examining them. But I had full faith in the clear
conclusions of my own mind. I knew that nothing could be truer
than truth ; and hence I fearlessly brought to examination, be-
fore the learned, the classes, to which had been taught the studies
I had just acquired.

I soon began to have invitations to go from Middlebury. Gov.
VanNess, wishing me to go to Burlington, I opened my views to
him. The college buildings were then nearly vacant, and some
steps were taken towards using them for a Female Seminary, of
which I was to be Principal, but the negotiations failed. In the
spring of 1818, I had five pupils from Waterford, of the best fam-
ilies. On looking over the map of the United States, to see where
would be the best geographical location for the projected institu-

during the term, requiring a beginning, a middle, and an eiid;'the first of the term
being mostly devpted to teaching, and the middle to reciting, and the last to ac-
quiring a correct manner of communicating.

236 ^^'^- EMMA WILLARD.

tion, I had fixed my mind on the Slate of New York, and thought,
that the best place would be somewhere in the vicinity of the Ijead
of navigation on the Hudson. Hence, the coming of the Water-
ford pupils 1 regarded as an in)portunt event. I presented my
views to Gen. Van Schornhovcn, the father (by adoptioii,) of one
of my pupils, — who was interested, and proposed to show my man-
uscript to the Hon. J. Cramer, of Waterford, and to De Wilt Clin-
ton, then Governor of New York ; and if they approved it, then
the *' Plan" might go before the legislature with some chance of
success. Thereupon I copied the manuscript with due regard to
manner and chirograpby ; iiaving already rewritten it some seven
times, and thrown out about three quarters of what it first contained —
then sent it to Gov. Clinton with the following letter :*

To his Excellency, De Witt Clinton , —

Sir, — Mr. Southwick will present to you a manuscript, containing a plan
for improving the education of females, by instituting public seminaries for
their use. Its authoress has presumed to otier it to your Excellency, because
she believed you would consider the subject as worthy of your attention, and
because she wished to submit her scheme to those exalted characters, whose
guide is reason, and whose objects are the happiness and improvement of
mankind ; and among these characters where can plans to promote those
objects hope for countenance, if not from Mr. Clinton,

The manuscript is addressed to a legislature, although not intended for
present publication. The authoress believed she could communicate her ideas
with less circumlocution in this than in any other manner ; and besides,
should the approbation of distinguished citizens, in any of the larger and
•wealthier states, give hopes that such an application would be attended with
success, a publication might then be proper, and the manuscript would need
less alteration.

Possibly your Excellency may consider this plan as better deserving your
attention, to know that its authoress is not a visionary entlmsiast, who has
speculated in solitude without practical knowledge of her subject. For ten
years she has been intimately conversant with female schools, and nearly all
of that time she has herself been a preceptress. Nor has she written for the
sake of writing, but merely to communicate a plan of which she fully believes
that it is practicable ; that, if realized, it would form a new and happy era in
the history of her sex, and if of her sex, why not of her country, and of man-
kind? Nor would she shrink from any trial of this faith ; for such is her con-
viction of the utility of her scheme, that could its execution be forwarded, by
any exertion or any sacrifice of her own, neither the love of domestic ease, or
the dread of responsibility, would prevent her embarking her reputation on its
success.

If Mr. Clinton should not view this plan as its authoress hopes he mav,
but should think the time devoted to its perusal was sacrificed, let him not
consider its presentation to him as the intrusion of an individual ignorant of
the worth of his time, and the importance of his high avocations, but as the
enthusiasm of a projector, misjudging of her project, and overrating its value.

With sentiments of the deepest respect, I am, Sir,

_, __ Your Obedient Rf^rvnnt,

MiDDLEnuRT, Vt., February 6, 1818. EMMA WILLARD.

* We would observe, at this point, that thechirography of Mrs. Willard's letter,
a copy of which now lies before us, is exquisitely neat, and boldly distinct. Ono
element in her success, has been, no doubt, her beautiful penmanship, inherited
from her father and carefully cultivated, as important to her educational objects.

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. ngy

"This treatise," says Mrs. Willartl, "is in reality the founda-
tion of the Troy seminary. It will not be tliought surprisin*' that
I awaited with intense feeling Gov. Clinton's reply. It came be-
fore I expected it, expressing his accordance with my views in his
happiest manner. His message to the legislature soon followed,
in which, referring to my "Plan," (though not by its title or author's
name,) he recommended legislative action in behalf of a cause
heretofore wholly neglected. The Waterford gentlemen had
made Gov. Clinton's opinion their guiding light. They were
to present my "Plan" to the legislature ; and advised that Dr.
Willard and myself should spend a few weeks in Albany during
the session, which we did. The Governor and many of his
friends called on us ; and I read my manuscript several times by
special request to different influential members; and once to a
considerable assemblage. The affair would have gone off by ac-
clamation, could immediate action have been had. As it was, an
act Was passed incorporating the institution at Waterford ; and
another, to give to female academies a share of the literature
fund. This law, the first whose sole object was to improve
female education, is in force, and is the same by which fenjale
academies in the state now receive public money.

In the spring of 1819, the removal of the school to Waterford
was effected, with all the teachers and part of the boarding pupils;
thus preserving the identity of the school, which had only an or-
dinary vacation between its close at Middlebury and its com-
mencement at Waterford. The "Plan," meanwhile, was pub-
lished under the title of "An Address to the Public, particularly
to the Legislature of New York, proposing a Plan for Improv-
ing Female Education."

THE PLAN.

This address is introduced by a compact statement of the im-
portance of a thorough education of women, and an appeal to the
legislature to found and endow a seminary for their use, since
this cannot be effected by individual exertion. Then comes the
declaration of what have ever been Mrs. Willard's views on the
different duties and destination of the two sexes ; and consequently
that each should have their different and distinct systems of edu-
cation ; as follows :

a Iminfrv f t-,^?"^-« ff ^^^^^ ^vill naturally be associated with that of
teS^llhlT f '"''"^ '"'^''^'"^' ^y *^'« P"^^^^'' ^»^J the absurdity of
this subject shall be proposed. I therefore hasten to observe, that the sem-

138 MRS. EMMA TVILLARD.

inury here recommended, will be as different from llio,=e appropriated to the
other sex, us the leiuale character and duties are from the male. The busi-
ness of the husbandman is not to waste his endeavors in seeking to make his
orchard attain the strength and majesty of his forest, but to rear cacli to the
perfection of its nature.

That the improvement of female education will be considered by our en-
lightened citizens as a subject of importance, the liberality with which they
part with their property to educate their daughters, is a sufficient evidence";
and why should they not, when assembled in the legislature, act in concert
to effect a noble object, which, though dear to them individually, cannot be
accomplished by their unconnected exertions.

If tlie improvement of the American female character, and that alone,
could be clfected by public hberality, employed in giving better means of in-
struction ; such improvement ot one half of society, and that half w hich
barbarous and despotic nations have ever degraded, would of itself be an
object, Avorthy of the most liberal government on earth ; but if the ieniale
character be raised, it must inevitably raise that of the other sex ; and thus
does the plan proposed, offer, as the object of legislative bounty, to elevate
the whole character of the community.

As evidence that this statement does not exaggerate the female influence
iu society, our sex need but be considered in the single relation of mothcj-s.
In this character, we have the charge of the whole mass of individuals, who
arc to compose the succeeding generation ; during that period of youth, when
the pliant mind takes any direction, to which it is steadily guided by a form-
ing hand. How important a power is given by this charge ! yet, little do too
many of my sex know how, either to appreciate or improve it. Unpiovided
with the means of acquiring that knowledge which flows liberally to the other
sex, — having our time of education devoted to frivolous acquirements, how
should we understand the nature of the mind, so as to be aware of the impor-
tance of those early impressions w hich Ave make upon the minds of our chil-
dren? or how should we be able to ibrm enlarged and correct views, either of
the character to which we ought to mould them, or of the means most proper
to form them aright?

Considered in this point of view, were the interests of male education
alone to be consulted, that of females becomes of sufficient importance to
engage the public attention. Would we rear the human plant to its perfec-
tion, we nnist first fertilize the soil which produces it. If it acquire its first
bent and texture upon a barren plain, it will avail comparatively little should
it be afterwards transplanted to a garden.

Four topics are next thoroughly discussed —

1. The defects of the present mode of female education.

2. The principles by which education should be regulated.

3. The plan of a female seminary.

4. The benefits which society would receive from such semi-
naries.

Under the first head the defects of existing schools for women
are stated to be —

1. They are temporary institutions formed by individuals,
whose object is present emolument.

2. These individuals cannot afford suitable accommodations,
nor sufficient apparatus and libraries, &c.

3. Neither do they, or can they, provide a sufTiciency of instruct-
ors either in number or capacity.

4. In such schools a system of classification is not, and cannot
be carried out.

MRS. KMMA WILLARD. jgQ

5. It is for the interest of sucli schools to teach sliowy accom-
plishments, itistead of solid and useful learning.

6. The teachers are accountable to no particular persons or
board of trustees, and hence the public are sometimes imposed
upon by incompetent, unworthy or dishonest individuals.

7. In these schools, thus independent of supervision, absurd
regulations, improper exactions, and unfaithful negligence, pass
unquestioned.

Under the second head, Mrs. Willard remarks that,, —

Studies and employments should, therefore, be selected from one or both
of the following considerations ; eitlier because they are peculiarly fitted to
improve the faculties ; or, because they are such as the pupil will most prob-
ably have occasion to practise in future life.

These are the principles on which systems of male education are founded,
but female education has not yet been systematized. Cliauce and confuiiou
reign here.

Education should seek to bring its subjects to the perfection of their moral,
intellectual and physical nature ; in order that they may be of the greatest
possible use to themselves and others : or, to use a diiferent expression, that
they may be the means of the greatest possible happiness of which they ai"e
capable, both as to what they enjoy, and v/hat they communicate.

Those youth have the surest chance of enjoying and communicating hap-
piness, who are best qualified, both by internal dispositions and external hab-
its, to perform with readiness those duties which their future life will most
probably give them occasion to practise.

Not only has there been a want of system concerning female education,
but much of what has been done has proceeded upon mistaken principles.

One of these is, that without a regard to the different periods of life pro-
portionate to their importance, the education of females has been too exclu-
sively directed to fit them for displaying to advantage the charms of youth
and beauty. Though it may be proper to adorn this period of Ufe, yet it is
incomparably more important to prepare for the serious duties of maturer
years. Though well to decorate the blossom, it is far better to prepare for
the harvest. In the vegetable creation nature seems but to sport when she
embellishes the flower, ■while all her serious cares are directed to perfect the
fruit.

Another error is, that it has been made the first object in educating our
sex, to prepare them to please the other. But reason and religion teach that
we too are primary existencics, that it is for us to move in the orbit of our
duty around tlie Holy Center of perfection, the companions, not the satellites
of men ; else, instead of shedding around us an influence, that may help to
keep them in their proper course, we must accompany them in their wildest
deviations.

I would not be understood to insinuate that we are not in particular sit-
uations to yield obedience to the other sex. Submission and obedience be-
long to every being in the universe, except the great Master of the whole.
Nor is it a degrading peculiarity to our sex to be under human authority.
Whenever one class of human beings derive from another the benefits of sup-
port and protection, they must pay its equivalent, obedience. Thus, while
Ave receive these benefits from our parents, we are all, without distinction of
sex, under their authority ; when we receive them from the government of
our country, we must obey our rulers; and when our sex take the obliga-
tions of marriage, and receive protection and support from the other, it is
reasonable that we too should yield obedience. Yet is neither the child,' nor
the subject, nor the wife, under human authority, but in subservience to the
divine. Our highest responsibility is to God, and our highest interest is
to please him ; therefore, to secure this interest, should our education be
directed.

1 10 MRS. KMMA AVILLAUD.

Neither would I be understood to mean, that our sex shouhl not seek to
make themselves agreeable to the other. The error complained of is, that
the taste ol" men, whatever it might happen to be, has been made a standard
ior the lormation ol" tiie lemale eharacter. In whatever we do, it is of the
utmost importance that the rule by which we work be perfect. For if other-
Avise, what is it but to err upon principle V A system of education w hich
leads one class of human beings to consider the approbation of another as
their highest object, teaches that the rule of their conduct should be the Avill
of beings imperfect and erring like themselves, rather than the will of God,
which is the only standard of perfection.

The essentials of a female seminary are stated to be —

1. A building, with commodious rooms for lodging and recita-
tion, apartments for the reception of apparatus, and for the accom-
modation of the domestic department.

2. A library, containing books on the various subjects in which
the pupils were to receive instruction, musical instruments, some
good paintings to form the taste and serve as models for the execu-
tion of those who were to be instructed in that art, maps, globes,
and a small collection of philosophical apparatus.

3. A judicious board of trust.

4. Suitable instruction; first, moral and religious; second,
literary ; third, domestic ; and fourth, ornamental.

In this part of the address the importance of education in nat-
ural, mental, and moral philosophy, is forcibly put. — Of system-
atic instruction in liousewifery, Mrs. Willard says; —

It is believed that housewifery might be greatly improved by being
taught, not only in practice, but in theory. ^V'hy nuiy it not be reduced to a
system as well as other arts? There are right ways of perforndng its various
operations, and there arc reasons why those ways are right ; and w hy nuiy
not rules be formed, their reasons collected, and the w hole be digested into a
system to guide the learner's practice ?

It is obvious that theory alone can never make a good artist ; and it is
equally obvious that practice, unaided by theory, can never correct errors,
but must establish them. If I should perform anything in a w rong manner
all my life, and teach my children to perform it in the same nuinner, still,
through my life and theirs, it would be wrong. Without alteration there can
be no improvement; but how arc we to alter so as to improve, if we are ig-
norant of the principles of our art, with which we should compare our prac-
tice, and by which we should regulate it?

4. The OuxAMKNTAL branches, which I should recommend for a female
seminary, are drawing and painting, elegant penmanship, music, and the
grace of motion. Needle-work is not here mentioned. The best style ot
useful needle-work should either be taught in the domestic department, or
made a (qualification for entrance.

Under this head we call the attention of parents to the following

admirable statement in regard to the fine arts : —

"It has been doubted, whether painting and music should be taught to young
ladies, because much time is requisite to bring them to any considerable de-
gree of perfection, and they are not immediately useful. Thougli these ob-
jections have weight, yet they are founded on too limited a view of the
objects of education. They leave out the unportant consideration of forming

MR3 EMMA VVILLARD.

141

the character. I should not consider it an essential point, that the music of
a h\dy\s piano should rival that of her master's ; or that her drawing room
should be decorated with her own paintings, rather than those ot others ; but
it is the intrinsic advantage, which she might derive from the refinement of
herself, that would induce me to reconnnend to her, an attention to these
elegant pursuits. The harmony of sound, has a tendency to produce a cor-
respondent harmony of soul ; and that art, which obliges us to study nature,
in order to imitate her, often enkindles the latent spark of taste — of sensibil-
ity for her beauties, till it glows to adoration for their author, and a refined
love of all his works.

5. There would be needed, for a female, as well as for a male seminary, a
system of laws and regulations, so arranged, that both the instructors and
pupils would know their duty ; and thus, the whole business, move with regu-
larity and uniformity.

The direct rewards or honors, used to stimulate the ambition of students
in colleges, are first, the certificate or diploma, which each receives, who
passes successfully through the term allotted to his collegiate studies ; and
secondly, the appointments to perform certain parts in public exhibition.s,
which are bestowed by the faculty, as rewards for superior scholarship. The
first of these modes i.? admissible into a female seminary ; the second is not ;
as public speaking forms no part of female education. The want of this
mode, might, however, be supplied by examinations judiciously conducted.
The leisure and inclination of both instructors and sclioljirs, would combine
to produce a thorough preparation for these ; for neither would have any
other public test of the success of their labors. Persons of both sexes woufd
attend. The less entertaining parts, might be enlivened by interludes, where
the pupils in painting and music, would display their several improvements.
Such examinations, would stimulate the instructors to give their scholars
more attention, by which the leading facts and principles of their studies,
would be more clearly understood, and better remembered. The ambition
excited among the pupils, would operate, without placing the instructors un-
der the necessity of making distinctions among them, which are so apt to be
considered as invidious ; and which are, in our male seminaries, such fruitful
sources of disaffection.

When Mrs. Willard introduced the followinjr views on woman s
mission as teacher, we are told that they were regarded with no
small surprize. Now, that they have been so far wrought out,
they may seem common place, — but always just.

Such seminaries would constitute a grade of public education, superior to
any yet known in the history of our sex ; and through them the lower grades
of female instruction might be controlled. The influence of public semina-
ries, over these, would operate in two ways ; first, by requiring certain quali-
fications for entrance ; and secondly, by furnishing instructresses, initiated iu
their modes of teaching, and imbued with their maxims.

Female seminaries might be expected to have important and happy effects,
on common schools in general ; and in the manner of operating on these,
would probably place the business of teaching children, in hands now nearly
useless to society ; and take it from those, whose services the state wants in
many other ways.

That nature designed for our sex the care of children, she has made mani-
fest, by mental as well as physical indications. She has given us, in a greater
degree than men, the gentle arts of insinuation, to soften their minds, and fit
them to receive impressions ; a greater quickness of invention to vary modes
of teaching to different dispositions ; and more patience to make repeated
efforts. There are many females of ability, to whom the business of instruct-
ing children is highly acceptable ; and who would devote all their faculties to
their occupation. They would have no higher pecuniary object to engage
their attention, and their reputation as instructors they would consider as im-
portant ; whereas, when able and enterprizing men, engage in this business,

J

142 MnS. EMMA WILLARD.

thoy too often consider it, merely as a temporary employment, to further
some other object, to the attainment of wliich, their best thouglits and cal-
culations are all directed. If then women were properly fitted by instruction,
they would be likely to teach children better than the other sex ; they could
afford to do it cheaper; and those men who would otherwise be enj^aged in
this employment, might be at liberty to add to the wealth of the nation, by
any of those thousand occupations, from which women are necessarily de-
barred.

Any one, who has turned his attention to this subject, must be aware, that
there is great room for impro cment in the common schools, — both as to the
mode of teaching, and the things taught ; and what method could be devised
so likely to effect this improvement, as to prepare by instruction, a class of
individuals, whose interest, leisure, and natural talents, would combine to
make them pursue it with ardor."

This passage shows the wide scope of Mrs. Willard's desires,
to promote improvement by education ; and it foreshadows the part
she afterwards took in working out her favorite problem, that chil-
dren's education is the business of women.

Our design, is next to show by what means she established a
Female Seminary according to "The Plan."

LEGISLATIVE EXPERIENCES. REMOVAL TO TROY.

In the winter of 1819, as we have seen, tlint the "Plan," of
which an abstract has just been given, was presented to the mem-
bers of the Legislature of New York.

They manifested their approbation by an act of incorporation
of the school at VVaterford, placing it on the list of academies,
and granting it a share of the literature fund ; and on a petition,
further to encourage the projected improvement, the committee to
whom it was referred, reported in its favor the sum of $5,000.
But this was so near the close of the session, that the bill failed to
pass. Yet so strong were the hopes of the petitioners, from the
favorable indications of the past year, that the removal from Mid-
dlebury was made in the spring. A large house was rented for
two years, and the school was enlarged — in its number of teachers,
in its scope and expense. That venerable divine, the Rev. Sam-
uel Blachford, was president of thef trustees.

In May, 1S21, Dr. and Mrs. Willard (the lease of their buildings
at Waterford having expired,) accepted a proposal to remove the
school to Troy ; the corporation stipulating to provide for its ac-
commodation, the building, which was the beginning of the one it
now occupies. The expense of this part of the building, and the
ground on which it stands, was $5,865 ; of this sum the common-
council contributed $4,000, and the balance was loaned by indi-
viduals. They also appropriated to the use of the school, a plat of
ground valued at over $2,000 ; on all which an annual rent of $400

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. j jg

was paid. This rent, as it accrued, was expended under tlie di-
rection of the able men who became the trustees of the seminary —
and to whom it is much indebted — in the payment of the loan,
and in repairs of the building. This was the line of policy after-
wards pursued.* As fast as rent became due. it was taken, and
sometimes it was anticipated, to add to the convenience, and value
of the premises occupied, and when they were thus enlarged, the
rent was increased. The fathers of Troy were men of high bus-
iness capacity, and they gave Mrs. Willard great credit for that
element of her character; but generally, they did not much sympa-
thize with her enthusiasm in the cause of her sex. Perhaps they
did not believe in it, but erroneously thought if her school gave
her fame, and brought her money, she would be satisfied ; which
the business prosperity of the place, and the cordial good will
which always existed between them and her, induced them to wish
she might be ; and inclined them to do from time to time as much as
might be necessary to that object. Some ge|ierous spirits there
were, however, who appreciated her motives, believed in her work,
and aided her in the spirit of her calling. On no occasion was
she ever backward to declare her true objects, and to say, that
not for wealth or fame, or any selfish advantage, would she thus
enslave herself. Indeed her powers could not, for such objects,
be brought into such intense action. If the people of Troy would
aid her in forming a permanent institution, she could labor among
them, and with faith, — but not otherwise.

In 1820, the second year of Mrs. Willard's residence in Water-
ford, Gov. Clinton, ever true to his pledges and his convictions,
recommended, in his message to the legislature, the infant institu-
tion in the following language : " While on this important subject
of instruction, I cannot omit to call your attention to the Academy
for Female Education, which was incorporated last session, at
Waterford, and which, under the superintendence of distinguished
teachers, has already attained great usefulness and prosperity. As
this is the only attempt, ever made in this country, to promote the
education of the female sex by the patronage of government ; as
our first and our best impressions are derived from maternal affec-

* A rage now prevails, of making for education, great and expensive
buildings, without much regard to convenience. Mrs. Willard was moderate. She
told the trustees, on her arrival at Troy, " I want j'ou to make me a building
which will suit my trade; and then I will not complain provided you finish it so
that we do not get slivers into our fingers, from rough boards. I expect the life
of the school will be in the inside, and not on the out; and when the school wants
to grow, you must enlarge its shell."

44

Mas. EMMA WILLAllD.

tion ; and as the elevation of the female character is inseparably-
connected with happiness* at home, and respectability abroad, I
trust that you will not be deterred by common-place ridicule, from
extending your munificence to this meritorious institution."

A bill passed the Senate, granting $2,000, but failed in the
House. More than this, the Regents of the University decided
that no part of tiie literature fund could go to the school. This
was the more trying, because its expenses, at its outset, were ex-
ceeding its income to an alarming degree. Dr. and Mrs. Willard
were disappointed, but not discouraged. The "Plan" circulated
in difFerent parts of the Union, and every where met the approba-
tion of the wise and the good.* It was also widely circulated in
Europe. George Combe, at the height of his fame, published it
entire in his Phrenological Journal, and Dr. Dick and others, ap-
proved and quoted it. The elder John Adams, Thomas Jefferson,
and other distinguished men, expressed their interest in kind and
flattering letters to j^Irs. Willard; while among those who advo-
cated the claims of the institution before the legislature, appear
the names of Livingston, Plummer, Van Buren, Spencer, Sharpe,
UllshoefTer, Powell, Irving and Williams.

In 1821, the trustees of the Academy at Waterford, again peti-
tioned for funds, but in vain ; in consequence perhaps of the fact
that Gov. Clinton's name was approvingly put forward in the pe-
tition, which led some members, in their politicijl animosity, to
oppose it.

Therefore, in January, 1823, Dr. and Mrs. Willard presented
a second earnest memorial to the legislature for endowment, giv-
ing a brief history of the rise and progress of the institution, from
its birth at Middlebury, to its maturity at Troy. This memorial
again brought the seminary before the public, — its statements aid in
understanding its history; — otherwise it was of no avail. Its final
rejection was one of the severest trials of Mrs. Willard's life.
Her sense of the moral importance of the subject, her fear of
financial disaster and personal disgrace in case of failure, her

* The present Judge Campbell, of the U. S. Supreme Court, remembers, says
Mrs. Willard, that when his father, the eminent Duncan Campbell, of Georgia,
was a member of the State Legislature, he accidentally found a copy of the
" Plan " in his office, left there by his clerk, Elijah Burritt, of Connecticut. He
was so struck by its justice, and his mind so enkindled by its enthusiasm, that
he forthwith presented, and successfully advocated its principles in the legislature
of Georgia; in which state a female college has been made. It was, however,
placed solely under male superintendence, which greatly marred its usefulness.

Mils. EMMA WILLAIID. I45

sanguine hopes of success, and lier zeal in the cause — all served
to render rejection an evit almost too lieavy to be borne.

Mrs. VVillard once wrote about her experience in the following
words : —

To have had it decently rejected, woukl have given me comparatively
little pain, but its consideration was dchiyed and delayed, till finally the ses-
sion passed away. The malice of open enemies, the advice of liilse friends,
and the neglect of others, placed me in a situation, mortifyirg in the extreme.
I felt it almost to phrenzy, — and even now, though the dream is long past, I
cannot recall it without agitation. Could I have died a martyr in the cause,
and thus ensured its success, I could have blessed the faggot and hugged the
stake. Once I had almost determined to seek permission to go in person be-
fore the legislature, and plead at their bar with the living voice, believing
that I could throw forth my whole soul in the efibrt for my sex, and then
sink down and die ; and thus my death might effect what my life had failed
to accomplish. Had the legislature been composed of such men as filled my
fancy when I wrote my " Plan," I could have thus hoped in pleading pubUcly
for woman. Yet had such been its character, I should have had no necessity.

It was by the loss of respect for others, that I gained tranquiUty for myself.
Once I was fond of speaking of the legislature as the ' fathers of the state.'
Perhaps a vision of a Roman Senate played .about my fancy, and mingled
with the enthusiastic respect in which 1 hold the institutions of my country.
I knew nothing of the maneuvres of politicians. That winter served to dis-
enchant me. My present impression is that my cause is better rested with
the people than with their rulers. I do not regret bringing it before the legis-
lature, because in no other way could it have come so fairly before the public.
But when the people shall have become convinced of the justice and expe-
diency of placing the sexes more nearly on an equality, with respect to pri-
vileges of education, then legislators will find it their interest to make the"
proper provision.

THE TROY SEMINARY.

Mrs. Willard. by common consent, now receives the title of
"the Founder of the Troy Seminary." But even with her hope-
ful temperament, she did not believe when she wrote the "Plan,"
that such a school as she there contemplated, could (as expressed
in the first paragraph,) by any possibility, be made by individual
exertion. And for its benefits becoming extended, she relied
mainly on its excellencies being observed by those who became
acquainted with its character and its happy effects upon its pupils.
Whoever will take the pains to examine the "Plan" in com-
parison with the Troy seminary as it exists at this day, will see
that it presents advantages for a complete education for women,
far superior to those therein contemplated ; * and the educational
history of the times will show that by means then unthought of, its

* The present condition of the Troy seminary comprises the many improve-
ments made by the present principals, Mr. and Mrs. John H. Willard^ as well as
those inaucTin-ated by Mrs. WiUard, who thinks they should be regarded as joint
founders of the institution.

146 MRS. EMMA AVILLARD.

modes of teaching and principles of action, took a spread,* rapid
beyond any conception which she at ihat time formed. These
things show the agency of a favorable Providence working with
her to accomplish its own designs.

When in the spring of 1821, Mrs. Willard left her incorporated
academy at Waterford, and removed to Troy, disappointed in one
effort to obtain legislative patronage, but fondly clinging to tlie
hope of what another might produce, what were the wants, which,
in founding an institution, were there to be met? They were,
first, a suitable building. The means to begin this were now, as
we have seen, provided by the corporation of Troy,f — a corps of
efficient teachers, which were already partly prepared by the
previous training of Mrs. Willard at Middlebury and at Water-
ford, and imbued with her peculiar methods and maxims. And
her first teachers at Troy, except for music, painting, and the lan-
guages, and for several years after her residence there, were
taught personally by herself, and afterwards by those she in-
structed. It would have cost thousands to have provided an equal
number of educated men to teach the branches taught in the sem-
inary; nor would they have reached minds so little prepared for
these studies, as could these teachers who had learned the meth-
ods by which Mrs. Willard had reached their own when they also
were in the same measure unprepared. After removal to Troy,
the process for the first years went on, of ne'^' studies learned and
taught at the same time.

And here we advert to what Mrs. Willard regards as a leading
epoch in female education, — the introduction of the study of the
higher mathematics. She regards it as having more than any
one thing been the cause of that stronger intellectual power by
which the American women have now shown themselves capable
of teaching, not only high subjects in the schools, but of investi-
gating new ones, and of managing high schools, as well as those
for children. And it may be remarked here, that all Mrs. Wil-

* Others were working in the field; let their biographies be written, that they
also have credit for what they did.

t Mrs. Willard, during her connection with the Troy seminar}'-, never received
a cent of public money. In 1837, a portion of the literature fund was first paid
to the seminarj'. By her repeated solicitations, the coi-poration of Troy then
gave to the trustees sufficient of the seminary property to entitle it to go under
the authority of the regents. But she gave the money to the trustees. She could
then do without it. Like Columbus, she could wear the chains to the end of the
journey.

MRS. EMMA AVILLAIID. 147

lard had foreseen and expressed in her "Plan" of the advantages
of a superior education given to women, as putting tlie business
of teaching common schools into their hands, is already cither
accomplished or going on to its full completion — a justice to them
and a blessing to the community.

What others may have done, Mrs. Willard knows not. She
knows that in an enthusiasm for drawing she sought to learn per-
spective, and finding she could not without geometry, she com-
menced that study, then being in Middlebury. Slie said one
evening to her husband's nephew, a senior of high standing in
college, "John, I am studying geometry. 1 have gone through
twenty-nine propositions of the first book of Euclid. I am
delighted witli the study, and I see no insurmountable difficulties;
but I wish you would take the book and see whether I understand
it as you do." The book was looked over, some of the more diffi-
cult points discussed, and the learner pronounced correct. And
afterwards, while at Waterford, she received some three or
four lessons in algebra ; but on her teacher confessing that he
never could understand why minus into minus produced plus, she
encountered tliat knotty point by herself, and proceeded in the
study without further assistance. She does not recollect that
otherwise she had any outside lielp in her course of mathematics.
In this independent manner she learned and afterwards taught
(one class at a time,) through Euclid, including trigonometry, —
Day's Algebra, conic sections, and Enfield's Institutes of Natural
Philosophy.*

In teaching these studies, which she commenced by geometry at
Waterford,f she considered it fair to take every measure possible
to make the pupil understand.^ In plain geometry, she cut paper
triangles with her scissors ; and in solids, made havoc with her

* When these acquirements are considered, and how they were made, it would
not be strange if they bore some remarkable fruits. Such is Jlrs. Willard's
astronomy, or astronograph}', written when past her sixtieth year, containing an
original scheme of educational astronomy, and a new theory of the tides.

t Miss Cramer, the daughter of Hon. John Cramer, was the first pupil. Her
examination in geometry caused a wonderful excitement. Some said it Avas all
a work of memory, for no woman ever did, or could, understand geometry.

X When, in 1854, Mrs. Willard was in London, attending the world's educa-
tional convention, Dr. Whewell, in the opening lecture, gave her much pleasure
by upholding the principles upon which, regardless of sneers, she had practiced.
Ihe Dr. mamtained that whatever produced in the mind conviction, was to be
regarded as just proof of truth, illustrating by laying over an inclined plane an
iron chain, which showed that as much shorter as the perpendicular side is than
the inclined, so much may the power be less than the weight.

J4S MRS. E-MMA WILLARD.

penknife, of ihe family stores of potatoes and turnips. Observing
that the natural rapidity of thought should not at first, in the com-
parison of triangles, be retarded to recognize the three letters
of each angle, she drew in each answering angle of the two
correspondent triangles, three different marks, as a large dot,
a cross, and a little circle. This enabled the learner to under-
stand by a glance of the eye, what equalities she was to prove, and
this aided her memory, that her mind might, unembarrassed, make
the first steps in developing the logical faculty. And then in ex-
plaining the figure, she taught an intelligent movement of the
pointer, with only the accompanying words, "this equals this,"
&c., instead of gientioning a great array of letters. When the
proposition was understood, the letters of the author were used ;
or any other letters or figures taken, without confusing the mind
of the learner. Thus she went through with her first duty to her
pupils, to make them understand ; in this part of the process talk-
ing much herself, but telling her pupils it would soon be their
turn. After this, they were by repetition to have the study fixed
in the mind, and then to learn a correct and elegant manner of
communicating, and that constituted the special preparation for
examination.

This mathematical course of learning and teaching, was not
interrupted by the removal to Troy, but went on until all the
mathematical studies enumerated were introduced in the manner
already stated, Mrs. Willard first studying them one after an-
other, arranging the mode of teaching, and then giving that por-
tion over to some of her pupils to teach, while she went on with
others. She thus began studying algebra at Waterford, and con-
tinued the study at Troy, taking with her a fine class of young
ladies from wealthy and fashionable families, some of whom so
sympathised with her enthusiasm, that four young ladies, by con-
sent of their parents, aided her during one season, by performing
the duty of regular teachers of classes.* But as they passed
away, their places were filled by those who were pleased to remain
as permanent teachers. Mrs. Willard's first mathematical teach-
ers have proved themselves women of great ability. One is lier
successor.

* For this important service they would accept no reward, except each a copy
of Mrs. Willard's miniature. The time of her studying her daily algebraic lesson,
was, while she was getting air and exercise walking the streets of Troy in the
dawn of the morning, before the people of business were astir. She recollects of
this fine class, that one or two of them having more time, occasionally got ahead of
her in the solution of a problem.

MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

140

When Mrs. Willard had taught tlirough Enfield's Institutes of
Natural Philosophy, which she found for herself a Imrdertask than
she made it for her pupils, having introduced stops of reasoning
which the author had left out, and figures of illustration which he
had not put in, — she thouglit she had gone farenougli for women in
the direction of mathemalics; though strongly tempted to add to
the course, descriptive geometry.*

While thus settling and introducing into the seminary her course
of mathematics, Mrs. Willard was at the same time equally
earnest in prosecuting other improvements.

In the two kindred departments of geography and history, slie
thus in the preface of her "Guide to the Temple of Time,"
explains her progress ;

"When, in 1814, 1 commenced in Middlebury, Vermont, the pchool which
by euhirgoment and removal became, in 1821, the Troy Female Seminary, tlie
subjects of Geography and History were difficult of instruction ; the books
of Geography being closely confined to the order of place, and tliose of His-
tory, as closely to that of time; by which much repetition was made ne-
cessary, and comprehensive views of topics, by comparison and classification,
were debarred. In Geography, the eye was not made the sole, or tlie chief
medium of teaching the signs of external things, as the forms, proportion,
and situation of countries, rivers, &c., for though maps existed, yet they
were not required to be used; but the boundary was learned by the words of
the book, and the latitude by numbers there set down — as historical dates are
now commonly learned. Numbers thus presented, are hard to acquire, diffi-
cult to remember, and, standing by themselves, of little value when remem-
bered.

Of the two subjects, although connected, yet Geography lay most directly in
my way ; as this, all my pupils studied ; and it was less difficult to manage ; for
maps already existed. (The Temple of Time, I regard as a Map of History.)
Geography, then, I dissected, and remodeled, according to those laws of
mind concerned in acquiring and retaining knowledge. 1 divided it into two
parts : first, that which could be acquired from maps ; and second, that which
could not ; — and for the first, giving my pupils to study nothing but maps and
questions on maps. In the remaining part of the science, being no longer
bound to any order of place, for no confusion of mind could arise concern-
ing locations after these had been first learned from maps, I was free to ex-
patiate by topics, and give general comparative views, of population, altitude
of mountains, length of rivers, &c. ; and philosophic or general views could
now be given of government, religion, commerce, manufactures, and produc-
tions, f Thus, since teaching Time by my Map, The Temple of Time, I have

* After becoming acquainted with the teaching and discipline at West Point,
she was presented by Capt. Douglass with the original work of "^longe on Descrip-
tive Geometry," and slie received some teaching from a distinguished graduate,
now Dr. Ingalls. A small class of young ladies at the Troy seminary are now
pursuing this beautiful study.

t " I suppose myself to have been earlier in this division, than any person in Eu-
rope or America. Malte Brun, of France, had similar views, but they were later
than my method of teaching, practised in my school in Middlebury. Of my im-
proved method of teaching there, there are living witnesses, both of those wlio
were my pupils and my teachers. Concerning what had been done in Ger-
many and Switzerland, Mr. Woodbridge, who had traveled in those countries,
and was the personal friend of Humboldt and other geographers, would have
kno\yn; and he as well as myself, believed that we were unitedly presenting, iu
our joint names, in 1821, an original plan of teaching geography.""

150 MRS. EMMA TTILLARD.

T>een able, as in this little book, to range freely by general pubjocts, without
fear of tlie pupils losing themselves wiih regard to historic time.

The method described, of teaching geography, is now fully established ; and
has been for the last twenty-five years. The drawing of maps on the black-
board, adds clearness and strength to the mind's picture ; but the arrange-
ment of the subject remains the same. The true iiiethod once found, chan-
ges are deteriorations. Books for reference, and those for the general reader,
are wanted as before.

These changes iu educational Geography led to some corresponding im-
provements in History. I devised the plan of a series of maps answering to
the epochs into which that subject should be divided. This method was first
described in 1822, in my "Ancient Geography;" and directions and names of
l)laces there given to enable the pupil to make for himself a set of maps cor-
responding to the principal epochs of ancient history.

I adapted this to American History as early as 1821 ; and it was the great
commendation which it received, as exhibited in the examinations of my
classes, and tlie constant requests that I would give it to the public, which
first led me to writing the History of the United States. When my earliest
'' Republic of America " was brought forward, it was accompanied with an
Atlas, containing the first series of Historic Maps ever pubhshed in this coun-
try. This was no inconsiderable step. I then applied the plan, as far as pos-
sible, to Universal History.

But I was not fully satisfied. There was as yet nothing so suitable to fix
historic time in the mind, as maps are, that of Geographic place. The old
►Stream of Time, and Priestly's method of exhibiting nations in a chart, were
of value ; but both difficult to remember, and without marks to distinguish
the centuries, as more or less distant. The thought then occurred of putting
the Stream of Time into perspective^ and adding light and shade, to give some
idea of the civilization of the several countries. This followed out, produced
the chart herein contained, which was published in 1836 or 37, in the first
edition of ray Universal History. My next step, was the invention of the
Historic Tree, connected with my late works on American History. But the
Chart containing the Pei*spective View of Nations seemed not fully under-
Sitood. It was but as their pathway beneath the Temple of History, and its
perspective character was not apprehended. The idea then arose in my mind,
of actually erecting over this floor-work an imaginary Temple of Time, which
would give the needed measure of centuries by pillars ; and on these, and on
the interior of the roof, would make places strictly according to time for the
names of those great men who are to history, as cities are to geography, its
luminous points. This, with great labor and much study, was accomplished
four years ago. When this map of time was completed, I was then satisfied
that my thirty years' work was done. The goal, to which, step by step, I
had been approaching, was at length reached.

This extract shows the persevering tenacity of Mrs. Willard's
mind, which could thus for years grasp and hold her suhjects —
until she had accomplished her designs ; and also the manner in
which her teaching brought forth her school books, — and they in
turn aided her teaching.

For this invention of time-maps, Mrs. Willard holds a medal, and
a certificate, signed by Prince Albert, given by a jury of nations,
at the World's Fair, held in London, 1851. She presented not
only her Temple of Time, but her Chronographer of Ancient
History — made on ti^e same principles — and also that of English
History. The medal was not given on the execution of the Charts,
f)r that was indifferent; but it was doubtless the verdict of the
jury, that a new and a true method had been found.

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. jt^j

While tlius Mrs. Willard was teaching what had lierctofore
been considered masculine studies, and thus risking the displeasure
of those wealthy and fashionable people, on whom, disappointed
of public aid, she much depended for support ; she was also testing
her popularity by the steps she was taking, to induct her pupils into
the duties of their sex, in regard to housekeeping ; as this might be
charged with a degree of vulgarity.*

As a balance to those possible causes of unpopularity, Mrs. Wil-
lard ever boldly taught — rare in those days — the principles of
esthetics, as regards the sex ; and made, at the same time, the
most of her own personal advantages, and social standing. She
ever regarded esthetics as the special province of women ; and
taught, from the mulberry grove onward, that it is every wo-
man's duty to be as beautiful as God had given her the power ;
not for vanity, but to increase her influence, that she might glorify
her Maker the better, and the more please her friends, and serve
those to whom she would do good. Beauty in woman is a
source of power. It is more an affair of cultivation, than had
been supposed. Whatever promotes health, promotes beauty of
complexion, and is cultivated by air, exercise, bathing, suitable
diet, and regular hours of sleep. Proper positions and graceful
movements, can, by attention, be acquired. The perfection of
dress, especially for the young, is not fashionable extravagance,
but elegant simplicity. Then the highest of all sublunary beauty,
is beauty of expression ; and that is the gleaming forth upon the
countenance of what is good within — holy and amiable sensibili-
ties, mingled with intelligence and truth.

DEATH OF DR. WILLARD. PROGRESS OF THE SEMINARY. TEACH-
ERS TRAINED.

In May, 1825, Mrs. Willard and the institution met a heavy loss
in the death of Dr. Willard. His last illness was long and pain-

* In general, when the graduates of the seminaiy develop into women of so-
ciety and mistresses of families, they have been found imbued with the principles,
and having acquired the habits, which lead to good housekeeping. The pupils in
their small rooms, each occupied by two inmates, (carefully assorted, as one of
the most delicate duties of the principal,) are provided with closets, bureaus,
&c., so that everything can be used for its proper purpose, and everything kept in its
proper place. And they are under a strict surveillance, as each in turn is to keep
the room in perfect order. This is that their eye may become accustomed to or-
der, so as, of itself, to detect the reverse. They are required to keep in order
their own clothing, and have a set time for mending. They took then- tui-ns also
with the domestic superintendent, to learn pastry cooking. Each room-mate is
in turn, room keeper for the week, and liable to a fault-mark if the monitress, in
her hourly rounds, during school hours, finds any thing out of order.

152 MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

ful. His wife's presence and care were essential to Iiis comfort,
and for the uninterrupted days and nights of three months she was
his constant nurse.

Up to tlie time of his sickness, he had been the beloved pliysician
of the seminary, the head of the family, and the sole manager of
its pecuniary affairs. How much he did to sustain Mrs. Willard
in the work she had undertaken, may be seen in tlie following
extract from a letter written by her soon after his death: "The
pupils I have educated are now my teachers. They, better than
men, understand my views, and they cheerfully yield tliemselves
to my influence. But the school has met with an irreparable loss
in the death of Dr. Willard, my husband. He entered into the
full spirit of my views, with a disinterested zeal far that sex.
whom, as he believed, his own had injuriously neglected. With
an afl^ection more generous and disinterested than ever man before
felt, he, in his later life, sought my elevation, indifferent to his
own. Possessing, on the whole, an opinion more favorable of me
than any other human being ever will have, — and thus encouraging
me to dare much, he yet knew my weaknesses, and fortified me
against them. But my feelings are leading me from my subject,
and 1 have no claim to intrude my private griefs on you."

From the grave of her husband, bowed in spirit, and emaciated
in form, Mrs. Willard returned to her work, to find it increased
by new burdens. She loved not money for money's sake, but she
knew it was the sinews of success. Determined to understand
her own business, she did not take again her hours of teaching,
until she had first planted herself at her office-desk, and, for a
time, not only superintended, but kept her own books. She now
made a new and more convenient arrangement of the school year,
dividing it into two annual terms, instead of three. In other ways
she systematized and simplified her school -keeping, as connected
with her financial concerns. Twice a year, every debt she owed
was paid.

The question will here occur : how were the means to sustain the
institution, and to procure its constantly increasing facilities, com-
marided ? We answer: from the great and extensive popularity
to which Mrs. Willard's teaching, and her school-books,* had
attained. Scholars flowed in from every part of the Union, and
some from Canada and the West Indies,

* The geographies had an almost unparalleled success on their first issue ; but
afterwards, the authors were shot, by arrows winged with their own feathers.

MRS. EMMA ^YILLARD. |rjg

We inquire next: wiiat were the unexpected means by whicli
Mrs. Willard's school becanne regarded as a model school, — its
fame and influence rapidly extending far beyond any concep-
tion made while forming its original "Plan?'' This was effected
by examinations of the school, private and public ; by the circu-
lation of the "Plan," and the approbation it met from high
authorities, and chiefly from a source not thought of when that was
written : the normal training of teachers, and the great demand
for their services, so that they were soon spread to the remotest
parts of the Union.

This system was but the continuation of the same general efforts
for all her pupils, by which all of sufficient ability learned to
understand, remember and communicate ; and without its being
regarded as an object to learn to teach, this process was in reality
fitting every one of the good pupils to become choice teachers.
Many, who never in youth thought of teaching, have taken it
up as a resource in later life, and pursued it with success.

The receiving of girls expressly for education as teachers was
at first accidental ; — begun in a case, where orphans, left desti-
tute, pined for education; and while their pledge was given that
they would pay by teaching as soon as they were fitted, it was
taken rather as quieting delicate minds, than with any real expect,
ation on the part of Mrs. VVillard, — so long seemed the time, and
so many the chances of failure, — that she should ever receive
remuneration. Yet in these cases, she was eventually repaid ;
and seeing that thus she was carrying out her object for the estaj)-
lishment and the spread of female education, and at the same time
helping those she loved, she went on willingly in this direction,
far beyond the limits of mere worldly prudence.*

But to be capable of teaching is not all that is necessary to the
school- mistress. She must govern as well as teach, and there is

* Mrs. Willard's practice of educating teachers, when it became enlarged and
systematized, embraced, in theory, a self-supporting scheme. To those young
ladies who had not the means of meeting their expenses, either in part or in
whole, she furnished at her regular prices, tuition, boai-d, and, in some cases, an
outfit of clothing and traveling expenses ; and, at the end of the course, they gave
a note which was to be met out of their first earnings. Bift the pupil was
allowed a moderate sum for her wardrobe. These notes were, however, fre-
quently collected without interest,— often canceled for less than their first
value,— sometimes, when misfortune pressed, relinquished in full, and sometimes
lost through extravagance, carelessness, or inefficiency. Those who paid most
promptly were the most grateful. Some of them are among the most distin-
guished women of the country. Filial in their feelings towards their benefac-
tress, Mrs. Willard may well regard them as her glory and crown of rejoicing.

154 MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

a democratic feature in the government of the Troy seminary, by
which all the good and faithful pupils, taking part in the school
administration, become fitted to govern others with dignity. The
officer of the day is taken in rotation from the older scholars. Her
ofiice is grave and important, and constitutes one of tlie most pecu-
liar features of the Troy seminary ; and none gave in its estab-
lishment a more severe test of address and perseverance, on the
part of the principal.

The teachers of the seminary she assembled in " Teachers'
Meeting " on Friday evening, not only to receive reports of their
classes, but to debate the standing questions : what can we do to
promote the good of the school — what law make — or what un-
make?— when Mrs. Willard proposed to them to establish this
day-officer or monitress, to be considered during the day an officer
of the institution, and to visit every room once an hour and mark
delinquents — the teachers declared against it, saying, as many
others did, it would be useless to attempt it, — pupils could never
be brought to mark their companions. But Mrs. Willard, count-
ing on her influence, and taking great pains previously to instruct
her scholars on the special nature of official duty, began the sys-
tem, and carried it through ; establishing honors and privileges to
the faithful monitress, and making the unfaithful take the fault-
mark, (or what was the same, lose one of her own credits,) for
any offiinse knowingly passed unmarked. The system remains
in the seminary to this time ; though now the duties of the day
require two successive monitors. To be efficient and faithful in
this office, is to stand high in the school. To be capable of per-
forming it well, is to be fitted to govern in a school or a family.
The success of the teachers who go from the seminary, is in no
small degree attributable to this discipline, as officer of the day at
Troy.

Mrs. Willard, when she wrote the "Plan," did not at all contem-
plate the special training of teachers ; and she never turned aside to
accommodate the school to them, but rather the reverse. With a
pupil-teacher of advancement and improved character, she would
place in the, same room, a petted, self-willed Miss of wenlthy
parents. This was an advantage to both parties — for while the
teacher-scholar was aiding Mrs. Willard in a difficult and delicate
duty, she was brought more into contact and conversation with her
principal, bv whom it was her special business to profit ; and on
the management of difficult pupils — the most critical portion of the
business she was to learn.

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. jgg

The labor of the system and responsibilities of its founder, few
can appreciate. Besides the financial risk incurred by the Intro-
duction of so many non-paying pupils into a school, whose pres-
ence required additional teachers, room, table expenses, &c., the
care of providing places for them, after graduation, was immense.
Watchfulness over them never ceased. Moreover, the system was
so popular, that applications for instruction were quite beyond the
capacity of the institution. Imploring letters, sad tales of misfor-
tune, and urgent appeals for special favor, were an incessant tax
upon the benevolent sympathies of the principal. During the
fourteen months, previous to her leaving the institution, the
letters in this department alone, amounted to five hundred, which
had all to be read and answered, requiring, of course, the assist-
ance of a secretary.

It was always Mrs. Willard's design to limit the number of
teacher-scholars, so that the institution would not incur financial
disaster by carrying too heavy a burden. And since normal
schools, distinctively established and endowed, have removed the
necessity of pursuing the system at the seminary, it has been for
the most part abandoned ; and its present pupils are generally
from wealthy parents, and those whose object is to fit their daugh-
ters for private life. Its first object and mission has ever been,
to make it a model-school for teaching the broad sphere of wo-
man's duties and accomplishments.*

But so popular had the system become, that throughout the
Union the simple certificate of scholarship, signed "EmmaWil-
lard," served as a passport to almost any desirable situation, not-
withstanding the seminary lacked the seal of an incorporated and
endowed institution.

It does not lie within the scope of this article to give a full his-

* Asan evidence of the estimation in which Mrs. "Willard's power as a teacher
are held, we make the following extract from a Poem on Female Education, deliv-
ered befoi-e the Frederick (Md.) Female Seminary, at its annual commencement,
July 8th, 1858, by Christopher C. Cox:

In the great art of Teaching we shall find

Its best exponent is a female mind.

In all that wins by manner or address, •

As in scholastic discipline no less;

In varied knowledge, oratorio sway.

The ready pen that knowledge to convey;

The skill all sciences to understand,

Grapple abstrusest problems, hand to hand ;

Our Trojan Willakd stands aloft confest

By all, the wisest, noblest, and the best !

156 MIIS. EMMA WILLARD.

tory of the Troy seminary. Its success has been unexampled.
For several years the attendance of pupils has numbered about
four hundred, of whom more than one-third have been boarders.
Teachers and officers number nearly thirty. It sends forth about
twenty-five teachers each year. Since 1833, it has been under
the charge of the only son of Mrs. Willard, John H. Willard, and
his wife, Sarah L. Willard ; the former having been for some
years her business partner, and the latter having been connected
with the institution for nineteen years previous to 1838, as pupil,
teacher, and vice-principal. The same methods of instruction and
discipline are continued, with such modifications as larger means
and added experience naturally and happily induce.

In 1846 an addition was made to the accommodation for room,
by the erection of an additional building fifty feet square and five
stories high, making the front of the main edifice on the Park, one
hundred and eighty feet ; and giving rooms for philosophical appa-
ratus, chemical laboratory, library, and lecture room, besides an
ample hall for examinations, concerts, &c.

The internal arrangements of the establishment are convenient,
including the modern improvements. The entire building is
warmed by steam, and lighted by gas. A good calislhcnic and
exercise hall, for the health of the girls, is included in the build-
ing. Thus Mrs. Willard has lived to see an institution, fully and
successfully embodying the ideal of her elaborate "Plan ; " where
the course of study is thorough and complete, and the facilities
abundant and adapted.

It is a peculiarly interesting circumstance, that Lady Franklin,
whose eflbrts to rescue her husband from the Arctic seas, have
excited a world-wide sympathy, once came to this country ex-
pressly to visit the Troy seminary, and see for herself the suc-
cessful training of women in the higher branches, of which she
had heard with great interest, ha characteristic of this American
institution. She spent some time at the seminary, with great sat-
isfaction to herself and to the teachers.

VISIT TO EUROPE. EDUCATION OF FOREIGN WOMEN. SEPARATION

* FROM TROY. MOTIVE POWERS.

Mrs. Willard went with her son to Europe in October, 1830,
and returned in July, 1831. The main objects of her tour, the
restoration of health, and the extension of professional knowledge,
were accomplished. During her absence, the seminary was in
charge of her sister, Mrs. Lincoln.

MP.S. EMMA WILLARD. j-^

Tlie knowledge of Mrs. Willard's labors in behalf of education,
had preceded her. When Lafayette revisited this country in
1825, Mrs. Willard was honored with his friendship. He then
invited her to visit France — and now received her accordinfrjy.
From this and other sources, she obtained facilities for visiiino- the
schools, especially those most remarkable for the education of
women. Marshal McDonald gave her an order, permitting her to
examine the schools founded by Napoleon at St. Dennis and St.
Germain-en-Laye. She had further opportunities of knowing
internally their regulations, from one who had long been in them,
M'lle De Courval, who returned with her to Troy as teacher of the
French language. By Madame Belloc she was furnished with an
introduction to Miss Edgeworth ; from whom she received facilities
for visiting the highest grade of female schools in England.

Some two or three years after the promulgation of the "Plan,"
Mrs. Willard becoming acquainted with M. Salazar, the Colum-
bian Minister, he forwarded a copy of it, with a letter from the
author — pleading for her sex — to the South American Liberator.
A respectful answer was returned by Bolivar, through the proper
department, and a female college afterwards established at Santa
Fc de Bogota.

After Mrs. Willard's return from Europe in 1831, she enlisted
her energies in a scheme for establishing a school in Greece for
the improvement of the women of the East, — by inaugurating a
school in Athens for the teaching of native teachers. By leave
of the missionary board, under whom were Mr. and Mrs. Hill of
Athens, this normal department was added to their school already
existing. The Greek government responded to this welcome
movement of the " Troy Society," (an association of benevolent
ladies formed at Troy,) by passing a law to educate at this normal
school a number of beneficiaries, as great as the American ladies
would on their part provide for. •To aid in procuring the neces-
sary funds, Mrs. Willard agreed with the society to prepare some
one volume; and at their request she wrote^out her European
"Journal and Letters," containing 393 pages; for the publication
of which the society realized $1,100 of the 82,500 eventually
sent to Greece by them and others acting with them. There
was forwarded 8500 a year to support ten beneficiaries ; until
Dr. Milnor, the Protestant Episcopal Secretary of the Mission-
ary Board, signified that, for the future, the Board preferred to
have the sole control of their own agents ; and they would provide,
if their funds warranted, for the support of the normal department.

158 MRS. EMMA -SHLLARD.

There is no doubt tliat much has been done by this normal school
to elevate the women of the East.

Ill 1838, shortly before leaving the seminary, Mrs. Willard
made out, and has left, in a pamphlet of thirty-two pages, a con-
densed abstract of her educational principles and practices. It
was addressed as "A Letter to the Willard x\ssociation for the
Mutual Improvement of Female Teachers." The pamphlet con-
tains the names of one hundred and ninety-three members then
present at the seminary, cither as teachers or preparing to teach.
The "Letter" is specially addressed to those whom she had
already sent forth ; and we cannot doubt the earnestness with
which she would endeavor to lead in the right way, those on whose
success depended not only the extensive spread of female edu-
cation, but the repayment of the fortune she had expended, and
her valued good name as a teacher.

From this pamphlet we shall presently introduce an extract,
showing the true character of Mrs. Willard's religious teaching.
Religion was regarded by her as the underlying and sustaining
principle of all right education. It has always been a maxim
with her, that no solid intellectual improvement could be expected
of a pupil while she was morally wrong ; and hence it has been
her constant purpose to make her "daughters," (as she regarded
her pupils, for her love to them was scarcely less than maternal,)
first of all feel love towards God, and understand the wisdom of
conforming the life to His laws. To this end, not only was Christian
truth instilled with the daily school instruction, but also by direct
personal conversation ; and on Saturday morning, at half past
eleven, when the week's work was done, a familiar, practical,
Christian lecture, was given to the assembled scholars; at which
the presence of each one was specially enjoined. This Saturday
lecture occurred tlie next day after the Teacher's evening meet-
ing, when the officer of the weeH^ (each teacher in her turn,) pre-
sented to the Principal a Report, embodying the seven monitress
bills of the day-officers, with a summary of the fault and credit
marks given by them, and also those given by herself, with her
own general report of the conduct of the pupils during the week.
This summary was read to the school before the lecture began.
Thus faults as well as improvements were reviewed, and all con-
duct and experiences regarded in the light of God's holy law, and
of "the power of an endless life."

We commend the following extract from the address above re-
ferred to : —

MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

159

But though earthly employers may not always be satisfied when you do
your duty, yet, with the great Father of us all, we shall ever find justice, and
that, too, tempered with mercy. First of all, then, be careful so to regulate
your example and your teaching, that Ue, finding you faithful over a few
things, shall, in Ilis good time, nuikc you ruler over many. Accustom your-
selves to regard Ilim as the great Employer of your time, and final Judge
and Rewardcr of your virtues ; and the children under your care as His, and
to be trained up for Ilim. Though this grand principle may be modified in
its exercise by the peculiar views of earthly parents, yet it is not their will,
even if they are so impious as to wish it, that can set aside this primary
obligation.

Faithfulnenn to God^ then, will comprehend whatever may be said on the
extensive subject, of training the young to morality and religion. The first
means to do this is, to show by your conduct the sacred estimation in which
you hold these things yourself. Spe.a.k true, and do right, as well as to re-
(juire it of them. Reverence God with devout love and fear ; attend upon
His public v.orship and sacraments; read His word for your guide, and keep
near to Him in prayer. Let the holy scriptures, particularly on the Lord's
day, be taught to your pupils in a manner to interest them. The practice of
special instruction on moral and religious subjects at some stated season, as
in our Saturday's lectures at the Seminary, is good. Daily prayer in school
should be regularly attended ; solemnity should prevail, but tediousness should
be avoided.

So far, however, from depending on set times, for the whole discharge of
the duty of training the young to piety and virtue, you are, during all your
exercises, to regard it as the grand object of your labors ; and while your
pupils see that it is so, they will be learning to consider it their main concern
also. Instead of telling them nothing more than that they must not be angry
because it spoils their beauty, or they must not tell lies because it hurts their
character, gravely show them that such things are displeasing to their
Maker ; and mention some of the Scriptures which forbid them. And when
you have punished a child for a serious fault, and the penitent asks your for-
giveness, remind her while you pronounce it, that she should go to God in
prayer to ask it of Him as the one she has chiefly offended. Instead of pur-
suing the common method of making her promise a great deal to you in the
way of amendment,* (a practice which does but make promise-breakers,) coun-
sel her to resolve against her fault before her Maker, and ask his grace to
enable her to keep her good resolutions ; as for you, you shall know her repent-
ance to be sincere, when there is an answering change in her conduct. Take
advantage of passing occurrences, as the death of friends, to impress your
pupils with the shortness of the time allotted them for preparing their last
account ; and if an examination excites them, tell them how vain and idle it
is to fear to be brought before a few worms of the dust, like themselves, to
be questioned on literary matters, where they make special preparation, when
the very secrets of their hearts are always known to God, and must one day
be made manifest to an assembled universe.

While engaged in teaching any study,- the pious instructor will find inter-
esting occasions of leading her scholars to view the Almighty as the God of
Nature, or of Providence, and thus to introduce the germs of piety into their
minds along with those of science.

That "God has a life-plan for every human person," is a doc-
trine strongly countenanced by the life of Mrs. Willard. Look-
ing over it as a whole, we see that her felt mission — the progress
of woman — had its parts ; and the time had now come, when in
the department which regarded the Troy Seminary, her own pe-
culiar work was accomplished, while other portions of her life-
plan remained to be worked out. She had seen an institution
founded, which already gave advantages to her sex, beyond her

180 MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

conception when she wrote her "Plan." Those clearest to her
were ready and fully prepared to take her place ; and in the sum-
mer of 1S33, she resigned to them her office in the seminary.

The next work of public interest in which Mrs. Willard en-
gaged, was in the fall of the succeeding year, 1339. It was the
reinvestigation of her long-studied hypothesis of the circulation of
the blood. With the aid of her old family physician, Dr. Robbins,
and Prof. Smith, then of Troy, (both believers in her theory,) she
now witnessed post-mortem examinations of the heart and lungs.
Being more and more confirmed in her views, she then carefully
re-wrote her theory, and sent four copies of the manuscript to Eu-
rope, of which one went to the Drs. Edwards, members of the
French Institute. Her correspondence with one of them, and her
treatise, are both contained in her work on the " ?»Iotive Powers,"
published in the spring of 1846.

WORK AMONG THE COMMON SCHOOLS.

We have seen that Mrs. Willard's consecration to the cause of
education, inevitably led her, in time, beyond the sphere of estab-
lishing a Female Seminary, to the still wider benevolence of edu-
cating female teachers — and for other lands as well as her own.
The same consecration led her in time to feel a deep interest in
the Common or Public Schools, which, in the year 1840, was pro-
videntially directed to practical results of permanent value. Mrs.
Willard thus writes : —

"About three years before leaving the Troy Seminary, my mind
was aroused to alarm concerning the condition of the common
schools of my native State, by the representations of Miss Rob-
bins, a zealous friend of education, who had just been making a
tour of observation through these schools. Looking into the mat-
ter, I found that it was not in Connecticut ordy, but in New York
and throughout the country ; that there was a general decadence
of the common schools.

Early in the winter of 1840, on a visit to Kensington, I stopped at
Hartford, and there learned, much to my satisfaction, tiiat a great
impulse in favor of common schools had been given ; warmth in
generous hearts was enkindled ; and all around weresio-ns of life
and animation. Mr. Barnard, whom I had before known as the
friend of my friend, Dr. Todd, was foremost in the movement ; and
had received from the state an appointment, which was effec-
tively that of State Superintendent. He had already inaugurated
a system of operations ; and was now going the rounds of the

MllS. EMMA V/ILLARD. |51

state to get up an interest, and make dry bones live. lie had
appointed a festal meeting of the schools at Kensington, which
took place about ten days after my arrival there."

Much interest was felt by the people of Kensington, and INIrs.
Willard was invited to write an address for the occasion, which
she did. Mr. Barnard was present, and in his Journal thus de-
scribes the jubilant scene : —

On the 18th inst., a public meeting of all the schools was held at the church,
and a happy day it proved to parents, teachers, and children.

Upon the arrival of the schools at the meeting house, the music, with the
banners, were stationed on the steps, and the scholars, in procession, entered
under the banners, and filled the body of the church. Tiie house was soon
crowded, many being in attendance from neighboring towns ; indeed it is
said by the pastor, the Rev. Royal Robbins, to have been the largest congre-
gation assembled in this place since his ordination, 22 years since. The ex-
ercises were commenced with prayer from the pastor, followed by singing
from a large choir, under the direction of Mr. Hall, of Ilartibrd. A concise
and able report of the present state of the schools by the visiting committee
was read. A piece was then sung, composed for the occasion by Rev. Mr.
Robbins. The children were next addressed by Jesse Olney, Esq., of t^outh-
ington. Music followed by the band from Worthington, who had kindly
volunteered their services for the occasion. An address wi-itten for the occa-
sion by Mrs. Willard, was then read to the meeting by Mr. Burritt, and lis-
tened to with deep and thrilling interest. This was followed by other
addresses and interesting exercises.

At the close of the meeting, refreshments were passed to the children, when
they separated in high glee, in the same order as they came, greatly pleased
with the thought that there had been a great and high day on their account.
It is beheved that the interest of this occasion exceeded the highest anticipa-
tions of the old and young.

Mrs. Willard's address, and her" past experience, were calcu-
lated to inspire not only interest in improving the common schools,
but confidence in its author, as the best agent for carrying out the
improvements she so earnestly recommended. The result was
that she was immediately invited by the influential men of the
place, to take the common schools in hand. In order to afford her
the due authority, she was unanimously elected by the voters of the
parish as Superintendent of the common schools of Kensington,
"to take the oversight of them for the ensuing season." To
a written notice of those proceedings, from a committee chosen
for that purpose, she replied by accepting the office, with the con-
dition that she should be unanimously supported in her arduous
duties by the women, as well as the men of Kensington.

We pause upon the extraordinary nature of this transaction, to
ask whether it does not inaugurate a new and correct principle of
public action? Women cannot legally vote in a town or school-
society meeting ; but may they not be legally voted for ? Had
not the voters of Kensington a legal right to elect, by their votes,
a woman for school-superintendent ? and were they not legally

Jg2 MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

bound to Gustain her acts, the same as if that office had been held
by a man ? If school-committees may legally employ women to
teach, why may not the voters elect women to superintend ?

In May, before the opening of the schools, Mrs. Willard, by re-
quest of Mr. Barnard, wrote to him a letter explaining her plans
of improvement. A few extracts will best show how she intended
to fuliill the duties of her novel position: —

Four schools, each with a female teacher, will have gone into operation in
this society, during the week ensuing. These teachers are enguged with the
expectation that they are to receive directions from me. Our first business,
on the assembling of the schools, will be to select, with the consent of all par-
ties, some of the oldest, most discreet, and best instructed girls, as assistant
teachers. These will be employed with the three-fold object of promoting
their own edui^atioa, of making them useful in the business of the school, and
of training them by actual service, as well as theoretical instruction, to become
teachers in full. These assistants should be so numerous that while each shall
liave a part, perhaps the largest part of her time ibr her own improvement,
the principal teacher shall be so aided in her duties, that the whole school
shall be kept profitably employed. Up to a certain point, children, especially
when quite young, learn in proportion to the instruction imparted, and this
may often be given by a younger, as well as an older teacher.

This plan of assistant teachers, from among the best of the scholars, I tested,
in the early organization of the Troy Female Seminary. A school arranged in
this manner is not so good as one with a corps of highly instructed and regu-
larly trained teachers. But that^ on account of expense, is out of the present
question ; and I do believe the proposed is the best possible method of pro-
viding the needed help to the teacher of the common schools. The wife of
the farmer might find it easier to be served by experienced hands, than to
teach her own dauglxters to keep the house and tend the dairy ; but after they
have received the proper drill, it is her own fault if they do not become tlie
best of assistants. And here is an important consideration ; if the farmer's
wife takes other help, and neglects to instruct her daughters, how is her
house to be taken care of, if she is removed ; or where are the young farmers
to find helps meet for thera ? So, if the common schools do not educate their
own teachers, it appears clear to me that the majority of them will not be
educated. *»#****

In regard to room, we shall want for each school, besides the main apart-
ment, one small room, where an assistant can be teaching the very young
children ; and another, perhaps larger, where the best instructed of the assist
ants can hear recitations of the oldest pupils, and most advanced cla.sses,
whose lessons require considerable time. Such scholars, who understand the
general plan of study, who can, in the main, comprehend their authors, and
who may, in some measure, be depended upon to govern themselves, do better
with an inferior teacher, than larger classes of younger pupils, who are to be
governed as well as instructed, and taught the manner of study, as well as
the subject matter. Yet the classes confided to the assistants should be reg-
ularly reviewed by the principal teacher; and those in this society will be
occasionally by myself.

This being the summer term, the most advanced pupils will be altogether
of the female sex. I shall regard them as forming one school, divided for
convenience of attendance, and for giving aid as assistant teachers ; but we
shall bring them together for a common examination at the close of the term.
Of course, in this department, there must be uniformity in the books studied.
As to modes of teaching, I shall be satisfied with the teacher who gives to her
good scholars (for it is the good wax alone that takes the perfect impression,)
a thorough understanding of the subject, and to other scholars in proportion ;
and to all a proper method of communicating what they know. It shall be
my care to make the examination an actual test of this — a test at which the
faithful teacher will exult.

MIIS. IMMA ^VlLLARi).

1G3

Each school house should, wc think, bo provided witli a clock; no niattor
how plain, if it do but pertorni its ofKcc correctly. Wliatovcr is to be done
regularly requires a set tinie as well as a tixed place ; and teachers on low
wages cannot aflbrd to buy watches ; nor would they serve the purpose oi" u
perpetual memento of the coming duty of the scholar, like a clock.

We close our extracts with the view taken by Mrs. Willard
of the influences of bad reading books, charged with fictitious
stories.

I have collected and examined the school books used in the Kensington
schools. The amount of fiction put into the hands of the children, in their
daily lessons, strikes me with surprise and regret. Truth is the mother of
science, and the ancient ally of virtue. Fiction may mislead, even when she
intends to do good — truth, never. The mind that feeds on fiction, becomes
bloated and unsound, and already inebriated, still thirsts for more. And has
not so much of the mental ahment of our times been fiction, that this delirium
of the mind has become an evil so pervading that we ought resolutely to shun
its source, and turn now to the simple element of pure truth ? Some of these
books, too, contain low and vulgar language. Who would send a child
among clowns to learn manners ?

In general, sacred objects are the best for schools. There is even among
children, an awe and quietness diffused by ideas pertaining to God and
religion, which tend to good order ; and shed around the true atmosphere
of the soul.

For months Mrs. Willard devoted her untiring energies to the
four schools of the parish. Her retired chamber was consecrated
to religion, and to the consideration of her new duties in regard to
the common schools, — and no books, except on these subjects —
none whatever of amusement — were there admitted. On alter-
nate Saturdays came the four teachers, and oftener came a class
of nearly twenty, whom she called her normal pupils, to whom
she taught history and reading, — to a ^ew, algebra, and geometry.

She organized a "Female Common School Association" of wo-
men of Kensington, with constitution, by-laws, meetings, and effec-
tive work. She counseled with the teachers, met them for
special instruction at appointed times ; gave minute attention
to the teaching of the children of the several schools, so that every-
thing should be done at the right time, and in regular order; she
introduced her own methods of discipline and instruction, practiced
at Troy ; she selected school-books, established a regular system
of marks, and exercised the children most successfully in read-
ing, geography and arithmetic ; made copies for their training in
penmanship and drawing; dictated model letters of business and
friendship, and accustomed them to compose off-hand compositions,
writing on their slates accounts of passing occurrences, — and she
so taught them that mistakes in spelling were rare. She directed
what the children should sing all together, and wjiat tunes the
older ones should write on their black-boards, dictated to them in

IQl MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

iTjusical notation. She composed a song on " Good Old Kensing-
ton," which was a rejoicing to the children, and to be sung at the
examination — and a simple heart-prayer, which they recited at
the close of each school, with feeling and solemnity ; — she sketched
model maps, beginning with the town itself, marking the brooks
and bridges, the roads, the church, the school-houses — greatly to
tlie edification of the interested children. She talked of her im-
provements among the people — the men and the women — in the
liouse and by the way ; and thus, by all possible devices, wrought
out a genuine enthusiasm in fathers, mothers, and children.

In all her labors, she had the hearty cooperation of Mr. Barnard,
who sometimes shared with her the labor of visiting tlie schools.

On the 10th of September, a public examination of the four
schools was held at the church, which was crowded not only with
the people of Kensington and the adjacent parishes, but also with
distinguished educators of Connecticut and other states. The ex-
ercises were continued with unabated interest, from nine o'clock
in the morning to half-past six in the afternoon, with one hour's
intermission. The children entered into the full spirit of the oc-
casion, and made it a proud day for their parents and for Mrs.
Willard. At the close of the examination, a gentleman of Ken-
shigton, expressed, in the name of the society, public thanks for
lier arduous and unselfish labors ; and the State Superintendent
expressed his satisfaction.

From Mr. Barnard's report to the legislature, and in the School
Journal, the Kensington proceedings were copied, and went into
other states. Thus, much of what was experiment there, became
common practice in the schools throughout Connecticut and else-
where. Mrs. Willard was honored for her gratuitous services in
the cause ; and received numerous invitations to meet with edu-
cational and literary societies, and conventions; and to write
addresses for those at a distance ; which she often did.

Before leaving Connecticut, Mrs. Willard projected the plan
of a Normal School in Berlin, which would probably have been
carried into effect, but for the abolition of the Board of Commis-
sloners of Common Schools, and the temporary suspension of Mr.
Barnard's labors in Connecticut, upon whose co-operation she
liad relied. Her plan contemplated a well organized system of
Teachers' Institutes, rather than a permanent Normal School.
There were to be two sessions of not less than four weeks each,
held nt those periods of the year when the great mass of teachers

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. |(35

could attend them without interfering with their ordinary avocations.
Those who joined the school were to engage to attend four suc-
cessive sessions, and to go through the prescribed course of study.
The union of theory and practice would thus be more thoroughly
carried out than in a permanent school, and the benefits would be
widely and immediately felt throughout the state.

In 1845, Mrs. Willard was invited to attend a Convention of
County Superintendents of Common Schools at Syracuse. Sho
was made an honorary member, and invited to participate in the
exercises and deliberations, which she declined ; but communicated
a paper on the place which woman should hold in the common
school system and educational movements of the day. In this
paper, which was read, and favorably received, among otiier sug-
gestions the author recommends the adoption of the plan of opera-
tions which she had inaugurated in respect to the Kensington
schools, and especially the formation in every town of a society
of women, with a constitution similar to the one adopted there.
This constitution provides for the appointment of three committees,
to co-operate with the regular school officers of the town — one to
ascertain the condition of the children who were not at school, and
to assist in getting them ; a second, on the accommodations of the
school, to see to the state of the grounds, and all those circum-
stances which affect the health and comfort of the pupils ; and a
third, on procuring books, and the means of illustrating the studies
of the school. Mrs. Willard was treated with great respect by
the convention — the members calling on her in a body at the houtiO
of her hospitable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Redfield.

This interesting and profitable meeting of superintendents, led
to Mrs. Willard's being earnestly invited to assist in the exercises
of several Teachers' Institutes in the ensuing autumn — which she did
by traveling in her own carriage, with a female companion, through
the counties of Sullivan, Broome, Tioga, Greene, and afterwards
to Oneida by railroad — meeting with over six hundred teachers,
and interesting a large number of parents, mothers as well as
fathers, in the management of the common schools, where their
children were educated.

In the spring of 1846, Mrs. Willard having published her theory
of Circulation by Respiration,* set out on a tour through the

♦ A Treatise on the Motive Powers, which produce the Circulation of the Blood:
New York, Wiley & Putnam, 1844. That this work contains an important dis-
covery, is now extensively conceded. In 1851, Dr. Cartwright, of New Orleans,
is claimed to have proved it, by his vivisection of alligators, made for that express

iQfJ MRS. EMMA WILLARD.

Western and Southern states, with her niece, Miss Lincoln | as a
companion. Through her long journey, of over 8,000 miles, em-
bracing all the principal cities in every state west and south of
New York, except Florida and Texas, she was everywhere met
by her former pupils with every demonstration of affection, and
made welcome to their homes by ev,ery form of hospitality. To
seminaries for the education of girls, she was received as a
founder and pioneer of this class of institutions.

In the summer of 1849, she published a pamphlet of 100 pages,
on ^^Respiration and its Effects, — particularly as it respects Asi-
atic Cholera,''^ as a contribution to the modes of dealing with that
formidable epidemic, which threatened to renew the terrible scenes
of 1832.

In 1852-3, Mrs. Willard was earnestly occupied in writing an
educational work on Astronomy, to embody improvements, origin-
ated in their first conception while she was a teacher in that de-
partment. They form one of her most valuable contributions to
the cause of education ; and in which — in the language of Prof.
Avery, of Hamilton College — "she has achieved a remarkable
success in making the elements of a difficult science, easy of
comprehension." The theory of the Tides, presented in this vol-
ume, is interesting, original, and simple.

In June, 1854, Mrs. Willard, again accompanied by her niece,
Miss Lincoln, re-crossed the ocean to attend the World's Educa-
tional Convention, at London. By Mr. Barnard, — already there, —
she was introduced to its officers, and to the most eminent foreign
educators; and to some of their most interesting reunions.

After the convention, Mrs. Willard accompanied her sister, Mrs.
Phelps, (just arrived from the U. S.) her son and two daughters,
through France, Switzerland, Northern Italy, Germany, and Bel-
gium. In Paris, those noble educators who have done so much
for the women of France, Madame Belloc, and M'lle Montgolfier,
with whom she had corresponded since 1831, met Mrs. Willard
and Mrs. Phelps, as sisters meet sisters.

Her next, perhaps her last, educational labor, had for its object

puri)Ose. In 1854, Dr. Washington, of Missouri, in the Nashville Medical and
Surgical Journal, (upheld by Dr. Bowling, the senior Editor,) wrote down all op-
position. Dr. Draper, of New York, in his late work on Physiology, says that
Hervey's theory of the heart's power, is not correct; but the principle of Circu-
lation by Respiration is.

fMiss Lincoln was one of the victims of the railroad disaster, at Burlington,
New Jersey, August 29, 1855. In her premature and violent death, society lost
a gifted iuid accomplished woman.

MRS. EMMA WILLARD. jg^

to provide such a reading book for the common schools, as when
in Kensington, she saw they needed ; and her impressions there
had become deepened by the alarming growth of juvenile crime.
She gave to the work the title of " Morals for the Young, or Good
Principles Instilling Wisdom.'" Tliis book presents in simple,
yet forcible and attractive style, the essential principles of a true
Christian life, and God's Providential government ; and from its
avoidance of all denominationalism, is well adapted to become a
text-book in public schools.

The selection of Mrs. Emma Willard to occupy a place in this
gallery of eminent American Teachers, was not, so much because
of her accomplished work, immense as this has been ; not be-
cause she had by unsurpassed energy established the first sci-
entific female seminary ; nor because, as an author, a million
of her books were circulated ; nor because she has published va-
rious addresses on the subject of education, presented by invita-
tion before various important bodies in various parts of the country ;
nor because she has enlisted wide discussion and general interest,
by the results of investigations in physiology ; nor because she
has done much disinterested work for the improvement of tlie
public schools ; nor because she initiated in her own Seminary
a system for the special education of teachers; but because
she is preeminently a Representative Woman, wlio suitably
typifies the great movement of the nineteenth century for the
elevation of woman ; because her life has been consecrated to the
education and advancement of her sex, or rather we might say
that the Cliristiaa elevation of woman has been the life itself — the
heart-impulse of which the facts we sketch are the exponents. In
this s!ie is individual — note worthy. Other women establish suc-
cessful seminaries, write successful books, make successful inves-
tigations, but they do what they do, either for the sake of the thing
done, or for the sake of some benevolence or principle embodied
and completed in the thing done. But with Mrs. Willard the
thing done has been in behalf of somewhat outside and hifrher:
and this higher end is the progress of woman. And although this
has not been always, nor perhaps often, consciously, her great
object; (as a great object, self forgettingly sought, absorbs self-
consciousness,) and altiiough efforts to determine a theory of the
circulation of the blood, have occupied an important part of her
life, in which no one department of humanity is exclusively in-
terested, yet even in these scientific studies we may say that the
inspiration was the winninor a higher consideration towards woman.
In behalf of her life-purpose she has established seminaries, writ-

168

MRS. EMMA ^VILLARD.

ten books, presented addresses, wrought out theories, superin-
tended public schools, solicited legislatures, dispensed monies,
toiled, and prayed, and wept, and thanked God; and, more than
all, in her own life she has been the possibilities of woman which
she preached. For this reason, we have written of her with warm
impulse and willing pen.

LIST OF PUBLICATIONS, by ]ilrs. Emma Willard.

Plan for Improving Fp:]maij: Education, addressed as a ^Memorial to the

Legislature of New York, 1819.
The Woodbkidge and Willard Geographies and Atlases, comprising
a Universal Geography and Atlas, a School Geography and Atlas, an Ancient
Geography and Atlas, Geography for beginners, and Atlas; 1822.
History of the United States, or Republic of America ; 530 pp. Brought

down in 1852 ; 1828, with a Historic Atlas.
Journal and Letters from Europe; 1833.
Universal History in Perspective ; 526 pages ; 1837.
Abridgment of American History; 1843.

Temple of Time, or Chronographer of Universal History; 1844.
A Chronographer of English History, on a similar plan ; 1845.
A Chronographer of Ancient History; 1847.
Historic Guide, to accompany the Temple of Time andt)ther Charts.
A Treatise on the Motive Powers which produce the Circulation op

the Blood; 1846.
Respiration and its Effects, particularly as respects Asiatic Chol-
era; 1849.
Last Leaves of American History, containing a History of the Mexican

War, and of California; 1849.
Astronomy; 1853.
Morals for the Young, or Good Principles Instilling Wisdom; 1857.

Besides these larger works, three addresses on " Female Education in Greece,"
1832; an address read at Norwich on the same subject, 1833; an address to the
" Willard Association," for the mutual improvement of " Female Teachers," 1838;
"Political Position of Women," 1848; "Our Father's; " "Bride Stealing;" an
appeal against " Wrong and Injury," and a pamplilet and "An Answer " to Ma-
rion Wilson's " Reply;" two poems, read at the " Farmington Centennial," 1840;
a poem contributed to the " Statesmen in Albany ;" " Universal Peace to be in-
troduced by a Confederacy of Nations, meeting at Jerusalem," 1820; "Will sci-
entific education make Woman lose her sense of dependance on Man ?" answered
in a contribution to the " Literary Magazine," N .Y., 1821 ; a metaphysical article
on " General Terms," puljlished in the American Journal of Science and Arts,
Vol. xxiii. No. 1, 1832; a volume of " Poems," 1830.

Besides the above, Mrs. Willard has written many other contributions to differ-
en periodicals, and numerous addresses, which have been read in different parta
of the Union, to schools, to literary and educational societies, &c.

SAMUEL READ HALL.

Samuel Read Hall, tlie author of '•^Lectures on School Keeping^''
and the first principal of the first Teachers' Seminary established in
this countiy, was born in Croydon, N. IL, October 27, 1*795, — the
youngest of eleven children of Rev. Samuel Read Hall and Elizabeth
Hall, his wife.* He received in infancy the name of Read, — that of
Samuel having been prefixed by authority of the legislature, after the
death of an elder brother. Soon after his birth, his father made a
purchase of one-half of the "Eastern Township" in Canada, and with
his family commenced his journey to settle there, during the winter
of 1796. Before reaching his destination, however, he learned that his
title was not valid, and that those from whom he had purchased had
absconded ; by which he had lost his entire property. This informa-
tion reached him at Maidstone, Essex Co., Vermont, and then he was
obliged to stop, having no inducement either to proceed or to return.
He procured accommodations for the family in Guildhall, an adjoin-
ing town, and obtained the lease of a tract of public land, upon which
he continued to reside for fifteen years.

The hardships of pioneer life were experienced by his family in
full measure. The number of families in the town was, at that time,
only ten or twelve. A mill was soon erected at Marshall's Fall on
the Connecticut, one mile from his residence ; but no school was com-
menced in that part of the town for several years. The only literary
advantages enjoyed by the younger children were those of the "home
school." But these advantages were better, perhaps, than most chil-
dren enjoy uiWer similar circumstances ; the parents being well educa-
ted, and the father especially, having been long employed in teaching,
at the place of his former residence, during the winter of each year.

The subject of this notice had made so much progress, when a
school was commenced in the neighborhood, that, though only eight
or nine years of age, he was placed at once in the " first class," to read
and spell. The reading- book was Morse's Geography, and the lessons

*The parents of Mr. Hall, bearing the same name before marriage, were remotely related.
His paternal grandfather was Stephen Hall, of Sutton, Mass., and his maternal grandfather,
Hezekiah Hall, of Uxbridge, and subsequently of Tyringham, Mass. These families are
traced back to two brothers, who emigrated to this country about the year 1630, and settled,
one near Cape Cod. and the other at what is now Medford, Mass. ; descendants of whom are
found scattered in all parts of the United States.

1*70 SAMUEL READ HALL.

for spelling were taken from Perry's Dictionary. The followinor win-
ter he was classed with those who were studying Pike's Arithmetic
and Alexander's Grammar.

At that period, there were no schools during the summer, and
usually but two months in the winter; so that the privileges that
young Kead enjoyed, at the age of fifteen years, did not amount to a
year, and this under teachers extremely deficient in qualifications.
The latter fact was, however, no doubt indirectly beneficial to him,
with his thirst for knowledge, as it led him to feel the necessity and
induced the habit of self-reliance.

llis father's library, though very small, contained a few books that
were of great service to Reed. In place of the multitude of narratives,
fictitious and others, that beguile the childhood of our time, he had
"Watts on the Mind, Mason on Self-Knowledge, and Locke on the
Human Understanding. With the two former he made himself quite
familiar before he was twelve years old, and with the latter before he
was fifteen. " The works of that learned man, William Pemble of
Magdalen Hall, Oxford^"* a very old book, occupied much of his leis-
ure time in boyhood. This volume is partly in Latin and partly in
English, and treats mostly of religious matters. He found in it a
'•'- Briefe Introduction to Geographic^'' and an essay entitled "x\
S V M M E of Moral Philosophie." With the aid of an old Latin
Accidence and Lexicon, used by his father when a boy, and Bailey's
Dictionary, he was enabled not only to read the English essays, but
to get at so much of the meaning of the chapters, " De Formarum
Origine" et "De Sensibos Internis," as to become greatly interested in
them. He continues to regard that old folio with high reverence
to this day, and will leave it as an heir-loom to his children.

In consequence of exigences into which Mr. Hall had been thrown,
as above stated, he became the religious teacher of the town ; after a
few years, was regularly inducted into the ministry, and, in 1811, was
ordained pastor of a church in Rumford, Maine. To that place his
youngest son accompanied him ; the other children then living having
arrived at manhood. Rumford was then but another sphere of pio-
neer life, — principally surrounded by wilderness, there being no settle-
ments on the north. Indeed, settlements had extended but a few miles
on either side of the Androscoggin, and from Ellis river, a tributary
uniting with it in that town.

Rumford was in a transition state, and, though rapidly increasing m
population, the schools were of the kind described in Mr. Burton's
graphic ''''District School as it was^ The care of a small farm and
other circumstances prevented Read's attendance even at these schools

SAMUEL READ HALL. 171

more than a few months, till after the decease of his father, which
occurred in 1814.

Left now to the g-uidance of his own inclination and judgment,
young Hall undertook in earnest to qualify himself to become a Teach-
er. With no patrimony, he was entirely dependent on his own
efforts. He was besides always a sufferer from diseases developed in
childhood, and which interfered with his ability to perform an amount
of manual labor, common to young men of his age. After some
time spent in study, under the direction of Rev. Daniel Gould, who
succeeded his father, as pastor of the church at Rumford, he entered
upon his chosen employment, in 1815, in that town, and continued to
teach there and at Bethel, during that winter. His purpose then
was to prepare for college, and to become a minister of the Gospel.
As a teacher, he felt himself greatly deficient in necessary qualifica-
tions, but his success was very much beyond what he had dared to
expect. In fact the spirit of the pioneer and originator soon began to
work outwardly, as it had been trained to do within. After he had
become well acquainted with his school at Bethel, he endeavored to
introduce some improvements. Among these was the writing of com-
positions. This awakened at first strong opposition among both pupils
and parents. It had never been required in a district school before,
within the knowledge of either the instructor, the scholars, or the
parents. The latter took the part of their children, because they
believed them incapable of the task, and the scholars, thus sustained
in their disinclination to attempt it, asked with one consent to be ex-
cused. The instructor requested the attendance of both parents and
pupils the next evening, to hear his reasons for endeavoring to intro-
duce the exercise. At this meeting his object was to convince all of
both the practicability and usefulness of such an exercise ; and, having
given them his reasons, he left the decision with themselves. The
result was a demonstration of his remarkable pedagogical powers.
When the day for compositions arrived, he had the satisfaction of
receiving one from every one of those whom he had requested to unite
in the exercise, and, among others, from a little girl, eleven years old.

On receiving and reading the compositions, he affectionately thanked
his pupils for the effort they had made, and told them that, with
few exceptions, the compositions were better than he had expected, —
that they had proved the truth of the adage, " Where there is a will,
there is a way." From that time writing compositions was a weekly
exercise. And this success marked at least as decided an era in the
teacher's progress as in that of his pupils. It assured him that much
more could be accomplished for the benefit of schools, if the right

172 SAMUEL READ HALL.

means were used ; and he became convinced and was led to feel that
this ought to be attempted, both by himself and others.

During the spring and summer of 1818, Mr. Hall attended an acad-
emy at North Bridgeton, Maine, under the instruction of Rev. V. Little,
and, in the autumn of that year, entered the Kimball Union Academy,
at Plainfield, New Ilampshire, where some assistance was offered to
young men preparing for the ministry. With this seminary he was
connected for nearly three years, teaching a part of each year at
Lyndeborough and Wilton, New Hampshire. In these places he
succeeded in effecting important changes, both in the studies prosecu-
ted and the books used. His first aim was to awaken a thirst for
necessary knowledge, and to convince all that ignorance of the branches
which could be required in the common school, was not merely a mis-
fortune, but a sin. An unusually large proportion of the members of
the school at Lyndeborough were over sixteen years of age, and sev-
eral were between twenty and thirty. Nothing but the elementary
branches had ever been taught in these schools ; not even geography.
This study, with the history of the United States and natural philos-
ophy, he introduced during the first winter, and intense interest was
awakened by them. It was asserted, by both parents and pupils, that
more progress was made in the school during that winter than in all
the five preceding. He was employed to teach in the same place the
ensuing autumn and winter. Several other studies were then intro-
duced, and the school attracted much notice, both there and in the
neighboring towns. His success, in fact, was so marked that his serv-
ices were sought in many places, at almost any wages that he was
disposed to ask. The next winter he taught at Wilton ; and also dur-
ing the autumn and winter succeeding. • The results here were still
more satisfactory, and a new era commenced in the schools of that
town.

It must by no means be supposed that Mr. Hall's success was due
solely or chiefly to his intellectual activity and enterprise, and the
stimulating effect of these, and of new studies upon young minds.
His influence through the conscience and the affections was still more
decided and important. It was felt, throughout the school, that Mr.
Hall would do what was right, and that it was the desire of his heart
above all things that every member of the school should also do what
was right in the sight of God. The sense of duty — the feeling of ac-
countability for talents and opportunities, and a proper regard for the
just claims of others, were carefully cherished ; it was the public sen-
timent of the school that the teacher was the helper and friend of all,
and that an exact compliance with his wishes was wisest and best.

SAMUEL READ HALL. I73

Tlie best lessons of the "Lectures on School Keeping^'' were working
themselves out in actual realities. But these labors were too much.
Mr. Hall's health became seriously impaired ; and, after a period of
great prostration, he was obliged, reluctantly, to abandon his inten-
tion of entering college, and pursue a less complete course of study.
lie left Meriden, and studied theology, first with Rev. W. Chapin, at
"Woodstock, Vermont, and then with Rev. W. Eaton, of Fitchburg,
Mass., at which place he taught a school, in 1822.

While at Fitchburg, he was advised by several clergymen not to
defer longer his entrance upon the work of the ministry ; and, al-
though not himself convinced, he consented to refer the question to
the Worcester North Association. By that body he was licensed,
and immediately received a commission from the Domestic Missionary
Society of Vermont, to labor at Concord, in that state.

At Concord, it was one of the first duties with him to visit the
schools. He soon saw that the^ time of many of the children and
youth was nearly lost, through the deficiencies of the teachers em-
ployed, and felt that in no way could he accomplish more good, than
by efforts to "teach the teachers" of these and the neighboring
schools.

When, therefore, he received from the church and people an earn-
est request to remain with them as pastor, his consent was given, on
the condition that he should be allowed to open a school for the in-
struction especially of those in town who desired to become teachers.
With that understanding, he was ordained, March 5th, 1823, and,
the following week, opened the proposed seminary. He admitted a
class of young pupils, as well as classes of those more advanced ; the
former rather as a Model School, in the instruction of which he in-
tended to illustrate to those intending to become teachers, both how-
children should be governed and instructed.*

In order to awaken greater interest in the education of teachers,
Mr. Hall prepared a course of lectures on school keeping, probably
some years earlier than any other effort of the kind was ever made,
either in the United States or Great Britain. These lectures were

* In order to a correct estimate of Mr. Hall'a place in the history of educational improve"
ment in this country, the dates are important. Here, in an obscure corner of New England,
under the hand of one who was, to a remarkable degree, self-taught, self prompted, and alone
in planning it, was an institution with all the essential characteristics of a Normal School,
eiglileen years before the Massachusetts movement had reached that point of development
which secured the e.stablishment of the Normal School at Lexington. [See Vol. IV., pp. 215-
289, of this .lournal.] Mr. Hall was, in fact, a " teacher of teachers." at the head of such in-
stitutions almost continuously for more than seventeen years from this date; namely, at
Concord, from March, 1S2.3 to July, 1830 ; at Andover, from September, 1830 to June, 1837;
and at Plymouth, N. H., from June, 1837, to May, 1840. The chronological plan, and independ-
ent origin of the '■'Lectures on School Keeping," are also important.

174 SAMUEL READ HALL.

written without any aid from books or periodicals. When first de-
livered, there was not a single tract, within his knowledge, furnishing
even " hints " on the subjects discussed.

"The American Journal of Education" was commenced in
1826, three years after the commencement of this school, and was at
once heartily welcomed by Mr. Ilall as a most important auxilliary.
Every page was carefully read, as the numbers successively came to
hand. The influence of that work, both while conducted by Mr.
Eussell and afterward by Mr. Woodbridge, was most highly salutary
to the interests of education in the country. Many teachers besides
himself regarded the work as the beginning of a new era in the pro-
gress of popular education. Some of the oldest writers in the coun-
try were secured as contributors, and very able discussions enriched
its pages.

With the hope of awakening the attention of parents and children
in the state to a subject almost enti/ely neglected in the schools, Mr.
Hall prepared and published, in 1827, the '^ Geoff raphy and History
of Vermont.''''* The success of this little volume exceeded the author's
expectations. It was very soon introduced into most of the schools in
the state, and was regarded with favor by teachers generally.

Some who had heard the '•'■Lectures on School Keeping^'' expressed
an earnest desire that they might be published. Mr. Hall accordingly
conferred with friends in Boston, and teachers in other places, and
the result was, its appearance from the press in 1829, and the sale of
the first edition in a few weeks. A second edition was issued ; and,
soon after, an edition of ten thousand copies was printed on the order
of the superintendent of common schools in New York, for distribution
to all the school districts in that state.

About the time of the publication of these lectures, the trustees of
Phillips Academy, Andover, erected a spacious building, with the de-
sign of establishing an English Department. In this effort, they had
primary reference to the necessities of those who were to become
teachers in "Common and Higher Schools."

The appearance of the Lectures, while the building was in progress,

• Of this work, the editor of the Journal, unsolicited, gave the following notice :—
•'This is one of the most judicious and practical books for a primary school that we have
yet seen. We value it, not so much for its entire correspondence with the views so often ex-
pressed in our pages, as for the uncommon quantity of useful and interesting matter it con-
tains, and for its happy adaptation to the minds of children. The geographical details are
well selected ; and the chapter on natural history will furnish much food for thought, and
will aid the early formation of good mental habits. The civil history is sufliciently copious
for the purposes of such a volume ; and the account of the hardships of the early settlers
is highly instructive and entertaining.

Books, such a.s this, contain the true elements of enlightened patriotism, and possess a
much higher value than is apparent at first sight."

SAMUEL READ HALL. 175

and while the trustees were inquiring for a principal to take charge
of the new seminary, led to a request that Mr. Hall would consent
to be a candidate. Though he had, for more than a year, found his
health seriously impaired by the care of a large parish and the labors
of the school at Concord, and supposed he must soon relinquish one
or the other, he shrunk from the responsibilities of the seminary at
Andover. He felt the disadvantages of his early education; and, re-
plied frankly that, in his opinion, some other person ought to be select-
ed, declined the invitation. It was still, however, urged upon him,
and in the result, after a long correspondence, his name was placed
with those o& other candidates, and he received the appointment, and
was soon after released from his engagements at Concord.

The seminary was divided into three departments. The Normal
or Teachers' Department ; the General Department, designed to pre-
pare young men for business ; and the Boy's Department, or Model
School. The ^^ Annals of Education" for 1834, contains the following
notice of the first of these departments : —

In the TEACHEa's Department are three classes. The course of study can
be accomplished in three years. But, as the middle and senior classes are ex-
pected to be absent to enable them to teach during the winter, the course re-
quires three and a half years. The regular time for admission is at the com-
mencement of the sunmier term. Candidates for admission to the junior class,
must be prepared to pass a satisfactory examination on the sounds of English let-
ters, rules of spelling, reading, geography, first principles of etymology and syn-
tax, intellectual arithmetic, history of the United States, ground rules of written
arithmetic, and fractions. The year is divided into three terms, and the follow-
ing studies are pursued at each : —

JUNIOR CLASS.

First Term. — English Grammar ; Intellectual Arithmetic, reviewed; History of United
States, reviewed.

Second Term. — Written Arithmetic ; Geography, ancient and modern ; History of
England.

Third Term.— Written Anthmetic, finished ; Linear Drawing, Construction of
Maps ; Use of Globes ; Book-keeping.

MIDDLE CLASS.

First Term. — Algebra; Euclid; Rhetoric.
Second Term. — Algebra, finished ; Trigonometry ; Chemistry.

Third Term.— Chemistry, finished; Surveying; Spherical Geometry, Conic Sec-
tions.

SENIOR CLASS.

First Term. — Natural Philosophy ; Logic ; Civil Engineermg.

Second Term.— Natural Theology ; Evidences of Christianity ; Moral Philosophy ;
Astronomy.

Third Term.— Political Economy ; Intellectual Philosophy ; Art of Teaching.

All the members of the junior class attend to the ^^ Political Class BooV^ on
Saturdays, and declamation and composition on Wednesdays, through the year.
The middle and senior classes write compositions on subjects connected with the
art of teaching.

Lectures are given, accompanied with illustrations and experiments, on the most
important studies; particularly, natural philosophy, chemistry, and school keep-
mg. Each one who finishes the course will have attended more than fifty lec-
tures on the latter subject.

When the Teachers' Seminary, at Andover, was established, no

176 SAMUEL READ HALL.

similar institution existed in the United States. The Prussian Normal
Schools could not be closely imitated in this country, on account of
great diversity of condition. Mr. Hall was obliged to originate every
thing, according to his own judgment, and the limited experience he
had.

The course of study to be established, and the length of time
which it should occupy, demanded the exercise of great discrimina-
tion. If too much were attempted, but few would be willing to enter
upon it ; and, if too little, the qualifications of teachers would be su-
perficial. A three years' course was established as, on the whole,
preferable to one longer or shorter. And, so far as h^ had oppor-
tunity to know the opinion of the patrons of the seminary and the
public, the length of time and the arrangement of studies were ap-
proved. A very obvious increase of interest in popular education
was soon apparent. This was a source of encouragement, no less
than of gratification. Applications for the services of the members
of the seminary, to teach school, were greatly beyond the supply ;
while the compensation offered was more than doubled within a few
years.

In this new and wider sphere, and with these encouragements, Mr.
Hall's plans naturally received a larger development. It occurred
to him that a new impulse might be given to the cause of popular
education^ by organizing a society, and employing agents to visit dif-
ferent parts of the country, who, by lectures and otherwise, might
awaken the attention of parents to the defects of schools, and to the
loss sustained by the rising generation. He invited the co-operation
of the professors and students of the Theological Seminary, the
teachers in the Latin School, and in the Female Seminary, at An-
dover, and several of the earnest friends of popular education in
Boston and other places. The result was, the formation of the Amer-
ican School Agents' Society.

This, it will be seen, throws considerable light upon the agency of
the subject of this notice, in planting those seeds which have germin-
ated, and are now producing such rich fruits in Massachusetts. At
this time, none of those noble agencies were organized by the Com-
monwealth, which have since gladdened the friends of popular edu-
cation. The spirit of improvement, though already extensively
awakened, and full of hope and promise, had not yet embodied it-
self in the form of law.

In the formation of the American Institute, in 1829, Mr. Hall had
co-operated, and was to have given one of the lectures at the first
meeting, in August, 1830, but was providentially prevented from at-

SAMUEL READ HALL 177

tending. At the second nieetino-, August, 1833, he read a lecture on
the "Necessity of Educating Teachers;" and, at another, one on
" School Government."

His position involved a large amount of miscellaneous labor. As
the head of a seminary, he received numerous applications for teach-
ei-s. Many teachers also, not connected with the seminary, applied
to him to obtain schools. These applications imposed upon him a
very extensive correspondence, which, to one already overburdened
with labor, was so onerous that his health soon became seriously im-
paired, for it obliged him to use, in work, time needed for sleep and
exercise. It was no uncommon thing for him to be occupied in
school, and at his desk, from sixteen to eighteen hours of the day.
He was obliged to employ many assistant teachers from time to time,
and superintending their labors was not a light task, while the gov-
ernment and direction of studies of the entire school devolved wholly
on him. For a limited period, Mr. John Q. A. Codgell was with him,
as associate principal. But this arrangement was not entered into
with a view of permanency, and was continued only a few terras.

Several books, published during this period, added considerably
to Mr. Hall's labors. He wrote and published the ^'•ChilcVs Geogra-
phy,^'' to illustrate what he regarded an error in the mode of teach-
ing that branch ; reversing the order that had been invariably pur-
sued, and beginning with a description and map of a town, and
ending with a map and description of the world. The sale was large,
and continued long after other works of a similar kind were in the
market. The ^^Grammatical Assistant, ^^ the ^^ School Arithmetic,^''
^''Lectures on Parental Responsibility and Religious Training,''' "^1
School History of the United States,''^ jointly prepared by him and
Rev. A. R. Baker, ''Lectures to Female Teachers,'^ ''Teacher's Gift,""
and " What every hoy can do,''' were successively published, in addi-
tion to many anonymous articles in the "Annals of Education " and
other periodicals. Several of these works were written, and all of
them published, between the years 1830 and 1838. Of most of them,
several editions were called for. By the misfortune in business of
some of the publishers, while the works were in press, the success of
two or three was less than it would otherwise have been, although the
author never made any efforts to secure the success of his books
after committing them to the press. Some were less carefully pre-
pared than others. But those which cost him most labor were the
most successful. This was true especially of the "History of the
United States,''' the body of which was entirely his work, and which
he regarded as the best he ever wrote. The publisher failed in busi-

178 SAMUEL READ HALL.

ness while it was in press, and nothing was done to introduce it to
the notice of teachers.

In the midst of these labors, at the commencement of the summer
term, 1834, Mr. Hall was arrested by a very serious attack of pneu-
monia ; and, although he partially recovered after a few weeks, he
was obliged, in consequence, to withdraw from active eftbrts on be-
lialf of several objects, and especially the School Agent' Society. He
was not himself able to attend the annual meeting of that year, and
was pained to know that most of those on whom most reliance was
placed to carry out its plans, were also in feeble health, or had left
New England. Not entirely recovering from the attack of pneumonia,
the harsh coast climate affected him unfavorably. He was, therefore,
inclined to accept the appointment, received at this time, of president
of the new collegiate institution at Oberlin, Ohio ; but yielded to the
remonstrances of the Andover professors and others, against under-
taking, in his state of health, so laborious an enterprise.

During the years 1834-36 also, Mr. Hall was subjected to very
heavy domestic bereavements, in the death of more than half of his
family ; three children and his wife. Under these accumulated trials,
his health declined so much that he felt constrained to tender his
resignation to the trustees, and seek a residence in the interior, re-
moved from the influence of its damp and chilly winds. When this
became known, he received numerous invitations to occupy other
fields, some from the south, and some from the west; but he thought
a northern location promised more for his restoration to health. The
trustees of Holmes Plymouth Academy, located near the geograph-
ical center of New Hampshire, had projected a theological depart-
ment in the seminary under their care, and erected spacious build-
ings. Mr. Hall was chosen its principal, in January, 1837. But,
before the plan was fully matured, a similar institution was estab-
lished at Gilmanton, in the same state. When this fact was made
known, Mr. Hall strongly advised the trustees to make the institution
at Plymouth a Teachers' Seminary, for both males and females, and
to modify their decision with regard to a theological department.
On this ground alone was he willing, under all the circumstances, to
accept the office. The trustees acquiesced. Their efforts had been
commenced with confident expectation of receiving a donation of
fifteen thousand dollars from a former citizen of Plymouth, who had
emigrated to Alabama. This, with funds already possessed, encour-
aged the hope that a Teachers' Seminary of high order, could be
founded and sustained. In this hope, Mr. Hall assumed the charge
of the institution, in June, 183*7. A plan of study for both a male

SAMUEL READ HALL. I'^'g

and female normal department, and for a classical and general course,
was drawn up, and regular classes were formed at the opening of the
school.*

At Mr. Hall's suggestion, Rev. T. D. P. Stone was elected associ4
ate principal, and filled that office from the autumn of 1837, but re-
signed the next year, to take charge of the Abbott Female Academy,
at Andovcr, Mass. Tlie number of pupils at Plymouth, the fii'st year,
was two hundred, and during the second, two hundred and forty-eight.
The seminary was pre-eminently successful. But, after nearly three
years, the expectation of the ample funds that had been relied on
failed. Reverses in business on the part of others, also, made it evi-
dent that the trustees must fail of ability to sustain the school, with
an efficient board of teachers ; and the principal resigned his office.
His health had been materially benefitted by change of residence, and
but for the pecuniary embarrassments of the Board, he would have
continued to consecrate his powers to the education of teachers, and
the advancement of popular education. He had, however, devoted
seventeen years to the work of "teaching teachers;" had originated
many improvements in the mode of conducting schools, — had seen a
new era commence in the educational advancement of the countr}^
and was permitted to rejoice in the success of many teachers who had
been trained under his guidance. He felt that his personal efforts
were no longer essential in that field of labor. Seminaries were es-
tablished, and other arrangements made in many places, for educating
teachers, and would, he believed, soon become accessible to a large

*The design of the seminary and course of study, stated in the catalogue for
1838, were as follows: — "This seminary has been founded with the hope of im-
proving popular education, by elevating the character of teachers. The trustees
have three prominent objects in view: 1. To educate Teachers for common
and other seliools ; 2. To fit students for college ; 3. To furnish the means for a
thorough English education. The original design of making Theology promi-
nent has, on account of circumstances, been modified. The school embraces a
department for males, and one for females. The academic year is at present di-
vided into four terms, of eleven weeks each. The course of study in the Teach-
ers' Department requires four years in the Male Department, and three in the
Female Department; with the exception of one term each year, during which the
members may be absent to teach school. Studies are pursued according to the
following schedules: —

TEACHERS' COURSE OF STUDY IN TPIE MALE DEPARTMENT.

PREPARATORY YEAR.

Fall Term. — English Grammar and Intellectual Arithmetic.

Winter Term. — History United States ; Watts on the Mind ; Geography, commenced.
Spring Term. — Elnglish Grammar and Arithmetic, completed; Geography, (U. S.)
Summer Term. — History of England; Watts on the Mind, reviewed; Geography,
completed ; Exercises weekly in Singing.

JUNIOR YEAR.

Fall Term.— Arithmetic and Grammar, rer/ew;eJ; Construction of Maps ; Physiology,
(with lectures.)

Spring Term.— Natural Philosophy, (with lectures;) Rhetoric; Botany, (with lec-
tures.)

Summer Term.— Book-keeping, (by double entry;) Logic.

J so SAMUEL READ HALL.

number of those ^vllo designed to enter tbat responsible vocation.
Much as lie bad always '• loved teaching," be loved tlie work of tbe
ministry more, and consented again to be a candidate for the pastoral
office. Of several invitations immediately received, he chose, for vari-
ous reasons, to accept a call from the church and congi'egation at
Craftsbury, Vermont. This town, in Orleans County, beautifully
situated in the Y of the Green Mountains, is remarkably healtby, and
contained a very intelligent society. The " Craftsbury Academy" in
the town had long been a flourishing school. With a call from the
church, he received, also, an appointment as principal of the academy,
but with the expectation, on the part of the trustees, that he would
employ assistant instructors to do most of the routine school work.
By this arrangement, he hoped still to advance the interests of educa-
tion, while, at the same time, his principal energies would be conse-
crated to the work of the ministry.

Mr. Hall accordingly removed to Craftsbury, in May, 1840, and, —
true, still, to his early convictions and impulses, — at once organized a
Teachers' Department in the Academy, in addition to a Classical and
General Department. It was thought advisable that the course of
study in the Teachers' Department should, at first, occupy but three
years, the county being comparatively new, and the means for obtain-
ing an education more limited than in older portions of the country.
The school was more numerously attended than he had expected,
from its retired location. A respectable number entered the depart-
ment for teachers.

During the following years, a great increase of religious interest in
Mr. Hall's parish made it impracticable for him to devote so much of
his time to the school, and, in 1846, he resigned the care of it
wholly; — except giving lectures to the students on the Art of Teach-
ing, and on other subjects.

From that date to the present time, Mr. Hall has had little direct
connection with the educational interests of the state, except to dis-
charge the duties of county superintendent of common schools, and
to co-operate with a county association of teachei-s, and a county
natural and civil historical society. Of the latter he is now presi-
dent. While the office of state superintendent of schools was con-
tinued, he was associated with that officer in conducting teachers'
institutes, in several counties.

He retained his connection with the church at Craftsbury until
1854, when, in consequence of impaired health, he solicited a release;
and during the following year was installed at Brownington, in the
same county, a parish of less extent, where he is now discharging the
duties of a New England pastor.

SAMUEL READ HALL. J 81

It may readily be inferred, frojn the proceding sketch, that Mr.
Hall's studies, self-prompted and self-guided as he was in early life,
and in working his way to his best conclusions, have been industriously
pushed in more than one direction. His love of geology and natural
histx)ry and his familiarity with those subjects, especially as the actual
facts had come under his observation, led to his employment in the
geological survey of Vermont for several seasons, and he is understood
to be under a similar engagement for another year, as an assistant
of Dr. Hitchcock. During the last four or five years, he has devoted
his spare time to inquiries and collections for a work on the early his-
tory of Northern Vermont and the natural history of Orleans County,
which is nearly ready for publication under the auspices of the
"Natural and Civil Historical Society," of which he is president.

As a tribute to Mr. Hall's attainments and services, the trustees of
Dartmouth College, some years ago, conferred on him the honorary
degree of Master of Arts,

JAMES G. CAKTER,

James G. Carter, to Nvhom more than to any other one person,
belongs the credit of having first arrested the attention of the lead-
in o- minds of Massachusetts, to the necessity of immediate and
thorough improvement in the system of free or public schools, and
of having clearly pointed out the most direct and thorough mode of
procuring this improvement, by providing for the training of compe-
tent teachers for these schools, was born in Leominster, Massachu-
setts, Sept. Vth, 1*795. Ilis father's house was on the family home-
stead, tii-st settled by his grandfather, in 1744, and on a rise of land
called, from the owner's name, Carter's Hill.

Up to the age of seventeen he lived the ordinary life of a New-
England farmer's son ; alternating between the summer's work and
the winter's schooling, which was all the education that his father's
means would allow. At that age he quietly formed the resolution of
paying his own way through a preparatory course, at Groton Acad-
emy, then under the care of that well-known and respected teacher,
Caleb Butler, and a collegiate course at Harvard College ; which he
accomplished, earning his money by teaching district school and sing-
ing S(ihool, and by occasional lectures upon the mysteries of their
craft before masonic lodges.

He was always on good terms with his class-mates, and among, the
foremost in his studies. His most intimate friend among them all
was the celebrated Warren Colburn. Indeed, much of the methodiz-
ing of Mr. Colburn's '■''First Lessons in Arithmetics^'' was derived from
the author's constant consultations with Mr. Carter, who discussed
and decided with him, among other questions, that whether problems
of a concrete nature should precede the moie abstract. The conclu-
sion was that they should.

Mr. Carter graduated at Harvard, in 1820, having spent the pre-
ceding winter in teaching at Cohasset, Mass. The school was com-
posed chiefly of young seamen, who improved the winter months in
searching for a " northern j^assage " to learning. They had mutinied
under several former teachers, and Mr. Carter's services were secured
because of his reputation in discipline. Many of the pupils were
larger and older than the master — but the resolute eye, and self-pos-
sessed manner of the latter as he took his seat at the desk, and after

JAMES G. CARTER. jgg

a few words, began to read aloud from a book which \n.y before him,
arrested the attention, and excited the interest of the former, and
formed the first link in a chain of influences by which he secured
their ready obedience, and devout attachment. The pupils and tho
committee, at the close of the term, united in a letter of thanks for
his valuable services to the district.

On leaving college, Mr. Carter opened a private school, in Lan-
caster, Mass., where he received into his own family many "sus-
pended " students from Harvard College, and correcting the errors
and supplying the defficiencies in the education, both moral and in-
tellectual, of this class of pupils, he had an opportunity of pursuing
still further the study of the great subject of instruction, and matur-
ing his own views as to the thorough and radical improvement of
schools. To his mind education developed itself as a science, and
teaching as an 'art, and to the dissemination of correct views on these
points, he addressed himself with the enthusiasm of an original
thinker, and a practical man.

His first publication in behalf of popular education appeared in the
Boston newspapers, in 1821, and from time to time through the same
channel, until 1824, when he issued, in a pamphlet of one hundred
and twenty-three pages, his '^Letters to the Hon. William Prescott^
LL. D.^ on the Free Schools of New England^ with Remarks on the
Principles of Instruction.^'' In these letters, Mr. Carter traces the
history of the legislature of Massachusetts, respecting free* or public
schools — points out the condition of the schools, and dwells on the
depressing influence which the establishment of academies and private
schools, and the neglect of public grammar or town schools had ex-
erted on the common schools. The original school policy of Massachu-
setts contemplated the establishment in every large town of at least
one school of a higher grade of studies than the district school, with
a teacher of college qualifications, so as to bring the means of pre-
paring for college within the reach of the poor, and, at the same time,
of qualifying teachers for the district schools. By degrees the require-
ments of the law were relaxed, until by degrees the place of the town
grammar school was tilled by an incorporated academy. In view
of this state of things, Mr. Carter remarks : —

What would our ancestors have thought of their posterity, those ancestors,
who, nearly two luindred years since, amidst all the embarrassments of a new set-
tlement, provided by law for the support of grammar schools in all towns of one
hundred families, " the master thereof being able to instruct youth so far as they

* IiUhe early legislation of New England. /ree schools meant ent/ourerf schools, and gen-
erally, schools intended for instruction in Latin and Greek. They were intended to occupy
the place of the grammar schools of England. The name was afterward given indiscrimin-
ately to elementary and grammar schools.

184

JAMES G. CARTER.

may be fitte;] for the universit)* ?" or what would our fathers have thought of their
children, those fathers who, in 1780, enjoined it in their eonstitution. upon ''the
lej^islatures and magistrates, in all future periods of this conimonweaUh, to eheriish
the interests of literature and the sciences, and all seminaries of them ; especially
the University at Cambridge, public schools, and grammar schools in the towns ;"
if they could have foreseen, that after one relaxation and another, in forty years,
those children would so far forget their duty to "cherish the grammar schools,"
as to strike them out of existence ? What the peculiar condition of the people of
this state is, which renders the support of this class of schools unnecessary, im-
politic, or unjust, I have never been able to understand. And, although I have
been at some pains on the subject, I have never yet learned what the arguments
were, which carried the repeal of the law through the last general court. Argu-
ments there must have been, and strong ones, or such an alarming innovation
would never have been suffered, upon an institution, to which the people, till quite
lately, have always expressed the strongest attachment. Was that class of schools
considered unneei.-ssary ? If so, what has made them unnecessai-y ? Either the
people have no longer need to receive the kind of instruction those schools were in-
tended to afford, or they must receive the same instruction in some other way. The
policy, and in our government, the necessity of eliciting the talents of the country,
by every possible means, will be demonstrated when we consider how many of
our most distinguished jurists, statesmen, and divines, have received their early
instruction in the primary and grammar schools of some obscure country village.
None, I believe, can be found, who will say the people have no longer need of
such facilities for bringing forward to notice the promising talents of their chil-
dren, and of giving to our country some of its greatest benefactoi's. Then by
abolishing the grammar schools, it is expected the people will receive the same in-
struction in some other way. But two possible sources occur, which promise in
any degree to supply the chasm in the system. The primary schools on the one
hand, and the academies on the other. Neither of these sources will answer
the expectation, or be adequate to the purpose. The primary schools will not
come up to the necessary standard, either as they are contemplated by the law,
or as they are, and promise to be, supported by the people. And the academies
are out of the reach of precisely that class of people who most need the encour-
agement offered by the late grammar schools. The effect of the repeal of the
law upon. the primary schools, is as yet, but matter of conjecture. It is probably
expected by some, and it is certainly to be hoped by all, that striking from the
system the class of schools immediately above them, they will be improved so as
in some degree to supply the place of the higher schools. If this expectation had
any foundation, or if there were any probability it would be realized in some good
degree, it would not be so much a njatter of regret, that the late measure was
adopted. But several reasons induce me to believe that the expectation is
altogether visionary ; and that the measure will have a tendency to sink, rather
than improve, the condition of the primary schools.

But it may, perhaps, be said, the qualifications of the instructors are as high, for
all practical and useful purposes, as they were under the former law, as it was
executed. In the first place, it is not fair or just to reason from the law as it was
executed, rather than as it should have been executed. In the next place, allow-
ing ourselves so to reason, we shall not, I believe, arrive at the same result. The
qualification of the grammar schoolmasters were, that they should be "of gocxi
morals, well instructed in Latin, Greek, and English languages." This class of
schools is now abolished, and "geography" is added to the former qualifications
of the teachiTs of primary schools. Allowing the two classes of schocds to have
been perfectly amalgamated, which is a great concession in point of fact, as well
as acknowledging a great perversion of the law ; we have dispensed with Latin
and Greek, and require geography in their stead. I have no desire to lessen the
estimation in which geogi-aphy is held as a study peculiarly adapted to our pii-
mary schools. And I am reaily to concede, that probably ten will wish to study
geography where one would wish to study I^atin and Greek. Now, if an in-
structor, who is qualified to teach Latin and Greek, could not by any possibility
be qualified, at the same time, to ttach geography, and all the minor studies of our
schools, I should consider myself as having conceded the whole argument. But
this is not the fact. Tliese qualifications are so far from being incompatible, that

JAMES G. CARTER. jgg

they generally exist in a superior degree in connection with each other. Tlie
(.onneetion, to be sure, is not so essential, that a man may not be a very good
teacher of Latin and Greek, and still know very little of any thing else. Still, as
the studies are arranged in all our schools, academies, and colleges, wliere young
men are prepared for teachers, all the elementary studies, including geograpliyj'
are genei'ally taught before the languages. So that, by adding them to the quali-
fications, even if it were never required of the instructors to teach tliem, we in-
sure more mature and accomplished scholars in those branches which are more
frequently and generally taught. I would not be understood to discu.ss, much less
to approve, this arrangement of studies for those destined to be scholars by pro-
fession. Such arrangement exists, and I avail myself of the fact for my pres-
ent purpose. But besides insuring better teachers for the common branches,
there are always some who would attend to the languages, as preparatory to a
pubhc education, if they had opportunity. And, if affording the opportunity to
all of every town, should be the means of drawing out but few of superior talents,
even those few are worthy of the highest consideration and regard from the pub-
lie who possess them. These and similar considerations, whieli I can not here
state, have convinced me, I know not whether they will convince any one else,
that the repeal of the grammar school law, even Jf we could never hope it would
be executed upon a more liberal construction than it has been for the last ten
years, will have a direct tendency to sink the condition and prospects of the
prinijjry schools.

As the academies are not entirely free schools, we can not calculate upon them
to supply instruction to the mass of the people. These are most respectable
establishments, and some of them are hardly inferior, in the advantages they af-
ford for acquiring a thorough education, to some institutions which are dignified
with the name of colleges. It is not desirable that their condition should be im-
paired. Nor need any fears be entertained tliat their condition will be impaired.
There are enough in the community who duly estimate the advantages of a good
education, and who are able to sustain the expense of these schools to insure their
permanent support. And as the other classes of schools which are free, are an-
nihilated or decline in their character and condition, the academies will be en-
couraged by those who can better appreciate the advantages of good schools, and
better atibrd the necessarj' expense. So far as it regards the accommodation and
pecuniary interest of the rich, and those of moderate property, it is matter of in-
difference, whether the legislature or public make any appropriations or provisions
for schools or not. They can and will take care for themselves. These are not
the classes of the community to suffer, when government withhold encouragement
from the schools. It is the poor who are to suffer. They must educate their
children m free schools, and in their own neighborhood, or not educate them at
all. The expense of tuition, of books, and of board at;^ie academies are so
appalling, as to put the advantages of those schools quite beyond the power of
a vast proportion of the community. In the towns where academies happen to
be fixed, the poor will of course derive some increased advantages; but these
towns are so few compared with the whole, and the incident expenses for books
and tuition are so considerable, that for all purposes of directly and efficiently
educating the vvhole mass of the people, the academies may be left out of calcula-
tion. For not one in twenty, if one in fifty, throughout the state, will ever find
their way to any of them.

From the external organization of the system, Mr. Carter passes to
the consideration of the defects of the schools, and the means of im-
provement.

Two principal causes have operated from tlie first establishment of the free schools
to impair and pervert their influence : incompetent instructors, and bad school
books. It is not a little surprising, that a public so deeply impressed with the im-
portance of the system of schools, and so resolved to carry it into full operation,
by liberal appropriations, should stop short of their purpose, and stop precisely at
that point, where the greatest attention and vigilance were essential to give eflScacy
to the whole. I do not mean that much good has not been realized ; on the con-
trary, as has been repeatedly remarked, the success of the free school system is

186 JAMES G. CARTER.

just cause of congi-atulation ; but I mean that their influence has not been the
greatest and the best which the same means, under better management, miglit
proiiuce.

The employment of incompetent and inexperienced instructors has probably-
arisen more from the peculiar situation of the country, than from any negligcnee
or indiftl-renee on the subject. So many opportunities are open for industrious
enterprise, that it has always been difficult to induce men to become permanent
teachers. This evil, although a serious one, is one which can not at present be re-
moved ; but its bad eftccts may be more qualified, by raising the chai-acter and
acquirements of instructors to a higher standard. The whole business of instruc-
tion, with very few exceptions, has hitherto been performed by those who have
felt little interest in the subject, beyond the immediate pecuniary compensation
stipulated for their services. And even that has been too inconsiderable, to ren-
der a want of success in the employment, a subject of much regret. This remark
applies to almost all instructors, ir(>m the primary schools up to the higher schools ;
and it h;is no very remote bearing even upon some of the instruetois in our col-
leges. Three classes of men have furnished the whole body of instructors.

Ist Those have undertaken to teach, who had no better rea.son for it, than
that the employment is easier, and perhaps a little more profitable than labor.
No doubl many excellent instructors belong to this class. A college education is
by no means essential to a good teacher of a primary school. But it must be con-
fessed, that many of this class have been most lamentably deficient in those jiter-
Avy qualifications which are essential to any instructor; and, perhaps, still more
defic.enl in their notions of decency and propriety, which never approach to
refinement in manners. In the same degree, the schools may be made a most
efficient instrument for improving and elevating the state of society when under
the direction of men who have themselves been properly taught, they may be the
means of disseminating or perpetuating grossness in manners, and vulgarity, when
under the direction of different characters.

2d. A second class are those who are acquiring, or have attained a public edu-
cation ; and who assume the business of instruction as a temporary employment,
either to afford a pecuniary emolument for the relief of immediate necessities, or
to give themselves time to deliberate and choose some more agreeable and profit
able profession. This is, probably, the most useful class of instructors; although
their usefulness is much impaired by a want of experience and engagedness in the
business. The thought that the employment is temporary, and that their ultimate
success in life is not much affected by their success as teachers, can not fail to
weaken the motives to exertion, and discour.ige the sacrifices necessary to the suc-
cessful teacher. The duties of the instructor are so arduous, under the most fa-
vorable circumstances, that he needs ail the motives to perseverence, which ex-
clusive devotion to the business or self-interest can suggest. His prospects of
happiness and respe(flfbllity in life, therefore, should be more identified with his
success as a teacher.

3d. The third class is composed of those who, from conscious weakness, des-
pair of success in any other profession, or who have been more thoroughly con-
vinced, by unfortunate experiment, that they can not atUiin distinction, perhaps
even subsistence, by any other means. There may no doubt be found individuals
among this class who are respectable and useful instructors. But as a class, they
are the most exceptionable of the three. To develop the powei-s of the human
mind, in the most successful manner, requires a discrimination and judgment
which it seldom falls to the lot of men of indifferent talents to possess. In the
science of instruction there is full scope for the best t'llents, and largest acquire-
ments. All the elevated qualities, either of mind or heart, which are necessary
to insure success in any of the professions, are essential to the accomplished in-
struetor. And some qualities are required which are not so intportant in any
other profession. How can he hope to arrange and adapt the studies of a child,
m as to call forth and strengthen the different powers of the mind, in their natural
order, and in the most successful manner, who is not capable of enumerating
those powers ; mueh less of analyzing them and understanding their mutual re-
lations and dependencies. Such, however, is the present condition of our country,
so numerous are the demands for instructors in the primary and higher schools,
and so various are the private interests which will be felt in the selection of

JAMES G. CARTKB. 137

\hem, that it is, probably, too much to expect all to have the discriniliiation ncces-
siry, in orJer to become accorate and original observers of the phenomena of the
youthful mind. But we liave much to lH»pe from those who can better appreciate
tlie importance of a correct system from instruction, from the encouragement of
iodividoals. and llie patronage of those large towns which carr}- education to its
greatest perfection. It is to these sources we must look for the first exaniples in
imppovemeut.

A large y»ortion of the ^Letters^ was devoted to an advocacy of
the intivduction of the principles of inductive logic into all the dif-
ferent branches of education, which he illustrates by exanaples of in-
ductive teaching in the languages, in geography, and in arithmetic;
the last as 'exhibited in W. Colburu s ''First Lessons.^ The "^Let-
Urs^ conclude with the following anticipations of the pix^ress of edu-
cation in this country : —

The science of instruction is the sphere, and oor country fe the place fi>r free
and uuemUirrassed exertion. Hope certainly cives us a bright a«d animating
prospect in the distance. The subject of eilucation has never excited so deep and
lively an interest, in every part of our c«"»untry, as at present. If this interest can
be dir«.<t<^^ by the wisdom and experience of the more enlightened, it can not
fail of a great and happy effect. The importance of the subject has long dnce
been felt ; the time has come when attention should be turned to the nature of
it. We nwy then hope for those impn>vements of which tlie subject is suscepti-
ble ; and those splendid results in the state of stviety, which the more ardent.and
phi!aQthn>pic autieipate. But science now sits solemn in her temple afu* off
The w;iys of approiich are dark and devkius, A few votaries only, by chance or
untire.l pirseveranoe, gain acc«.«s, till, at the expense of half their liv«rs, they are
warned by experience, like an insp'.nition from above, to become as little children,
that they may ent<r. But when the influence of eduauion is more duly esti-
mate<l, and when the cultivation of the head and heart shall be united, and form
one distinct and dignified professiiiu, drawing to its practice the greatest and beet
of men : we may then hope a proper direction wUI be given to the opening minds
and expanding hearts of the young; and that all the deep and permanent pre-
possessions of childhood and youth, will be upon the side of truth and virtue.
ScJeuee, philt«st>phy, and religion will then be blended with their very natures,
to gn»\v with their growth, and strengthen with their strength. The whole earth
will then constitute but one beautiful temple, in which n»ay dwell in peace jill man-
kind ; and their lives form bat one consl^cnt and perpetual worship.

The publication of the "^Letters " was followed in the winter of
1824-25, by a series of ^'^ Essays upon Popular Iklucation^'^ over the
signature of Franklin, in the Boston Patriot, in which Mr. Carter
aimed to present the condition, and the means of impro\nng its pub-
lic schools in a manner to be appreciated by the people. These
essay > attracted a large measure of public attention, as originally pub-
lisheii, and when issued in a ^lamphlet of sixty pages, in 1826, under
the title of ** JSssays ujxyn Popular Education ; containing a par-
ticular examination of the Schools of Massachusetts, and an out-
lir^ for an Institution for the Education of TeachersJ* In this
series of essays he first gave to the public his plan of a teachers*
semiuary. These essays, and particularly his views on the principles
of education as a science, and his outline of an institution for the
education of teachers, attracted much attention. Thov were very

188 JAMES G. CARTER.

ably and favorably revnewcd in the Literary Gazette, edited by The-
ophilus Parsons, and of which journal Mr. Carter was editor, in
1826, and devoted a portion of the columns to the advocacy of edu-
cational improvements before the public. The essays were made the
basis of an article in the North American Review, in 1827, by Prof.
Ticknor, and through that article his plan was made known to the
English public. Prof. Bryce, in his ^^ Sketch of a Plan for a System
of National Education for Ireland^'' published in London, in 1828,
speaks of the "outline," as the "first regular publication on the
subject of the professional education of teachers which he had
heard of"

In the preface to the "Assays," Mr. Carter pointed out the disastrous
consequences of the neglect of timely legislation in behalf of free or
public schools.

The free schools, strange as it may seem, had received almost no legislative at-
tention, ])rotection, or bounty, for nearly forty years. Of course, instead of taking
the lead in improvement, as they should have done, they remained as nearly sta-
tionary as any institution can remain, in such an age and such a state of society,
as those in which we live. Some men of longer foresight, and many, whose in-
terest in the subject was quickened by their having fomilies to educate, saw and
lamented this state of things ; but, as it was less trouble, on the whole, to build
up schools of their own, than to reform those already in existence, they sent in
their petiiions to the legislature in great profusion for acts of incorporation, and
for pecuniary assistance to enable them to establish academies under their own
direction. These petitions were usually granted ; and donations, small ones to be
sure, were made to further their objects. But the obvious tendency of this course
of legislation was to help directly those citizens who least needed help, and to en-
courage precisely that class of schools which, if they were necessary, would
spring up spontaneously without the aid of legislative bounty.

Within a few years, even these higher schools, from their unwieldy organiza-
tion, have ceased to afl'ord such instruction as the public require ; and private es-
tablishments begin now to take the lead of them. Thus have we departed more
and more widely from the principle assumed by our fathers in the establishment
of the free schools, viz., to provide as good instruction in .all elementary and com-
mon branches of knowledge for the poorest citizen in the commonwealth as the
richest could buy with all his wealth. Advancement upon advancement has been
made by a few, while the mass, who are less vigilant, remain as they were, with
only the unconsoling advantage of a little reflected light sent back by those who
have gone before them.

The influence of academies on the free or public schools is thus
pointed out, and the experience of every New England state, both
before and since, confirms the justice of Mr. Carter's view : —

One influence, which they undoubtedly have had, has been to prepare young
instructors some better than they could be prepared in the town schools them-
selves. This is a good influence. And if the same object could not be attained
mueh better by other means, it would deserve great consideration in estimating
the utility which we are to expect from those establishments for the future. But
the preparation of instructors for the free schools never formed a part of the
original desirrn of the academies. They wore intended to aff*ord instruction in
other and liigher branches of education than those tisually taught in the free
schools ; and not merely to give better instruction in the same branches. ]\rueh
less did it come within the wide scope of their purposes to give in.struetion in tha
science of teaching generally. So that the little good derived froin them in this
respect is only incidental.

^|_^ JAMES G. CARTER, 189

But the aca.lemies have hacl another iiiflucneo upon the public town schools,
wliioh has much iinpah*e;i their usefulness, and, if not soon checked, it will ulti-
mately destroy them. This influence, operating for a series of years, has led
already to the abandonment of a part of the free school system, and to a depre-
ciation in the ehai-acter and prospects of the remaining part. And it is working,
not slowly, the destruction of the vital principle of the institution, more valuable
to us tlian any other, for the preservation of enlightened freedom. The perni-
cious influence, to which I allude, \vill be better understood by taking an exam-
ple of its operation on a small scale ; and then extending the same principle of
examination to the whole state, or to New England,

Take any ten (contiguous towns in the interior of this commonwealth, and sup-
pose an academy to be placed in the center of them. An academy, as I have
before observed, commonly means a corporation, with a township of land in
INIaine, given them by the state, and a pretty convenient house, built generally
by the patriotic subscriptions of those who expect to use it ; the instructor being
supported, chiefly or altogether, by a separate tax on the scholars. In each of
these ten towns, select the six individuals, who have families to educate, who set
the highest value on early education, and who are able to defray the expenses of
the best which can be had, either in a private school among themselves, or at the
academy, which, by the supposition, is in tlieir neighborhood. Now of what im-
mediate consequence can it be to the six families of each town, or to the sixty
families of the ten tov.-ns, whether there bo such a thing as a free school in the
commonwealth or not! They have a general interest in them to be sure, because
they have themselves been there instructed, and the early associations of child-
hood and youth are strong ; and they have a sort of speculative belief, if it be not
rather an innate sentiment, that free schools make a free people. But how are
their own particular, personal, and immediate interests aflfected ? Without any
libel upon good nature, these are the main springs to human actions. These are
the motives which find their way soonest to the human heart, and influence most
powerfully and steadily the opinions of men, and the conduct founded upon and
resulting from them.

As soon as diftieulties and disagreements, in regard to the free schools, arise,
as they necessai-ily must, upon various topics ; such as, the amount of money to
be raised, the distribution of it among the several districts, the manner of appro-
priation, whether it be to the "summer schools" or to the " winter schools," to
pay an instructor from this family or from that family, of higher qualifications or
of lower qualifications, of this or that political or religious creed, or a thousand
other questions which are constantly occurring ; if any of our six families happen
to be dissatisfied or disgusted with any course which may be adopted, they will,
immediately, abandon the free schools, and provide for the education of their
children in their own way. They may organize a private school, for their own
convenience, upon such principles as they most approve. Or, they may send their
scholars, at an expense trifling to them, to the academy in their neighborhood.
Well, what if they do? The free schools remain, all taxes are paid cheerfully
for their support, and the number of scholars is lessened. What is the evil of
their sending their children somewhere else to be educated ? We should, at fii-st,
suppose that it would be an advantage ; inasmuch as the amount of money to be
expended would be left the same, and the number of pupils to receive the benefit
of it would be considerably diminished.

But the evils of this course, and of the general policy of the state government,
which has led to it, are very serious ones.* When the six individuals of any
country town, who are, by the supposition, first in point of wealth and interest in
the subject, and who w\]\ generally be also first in point of intelligence and influ-
ence in town affairs, withdraw their children from the common schools ; there
are, at the same time, withdrawn a portion of intelligence from their direction,
and heartfelt interest from their support. This intelligence is needed, to manage
the delicate and important concerns of the schools. And this heartfelt interest is
needed, to lead the way to improvements, to stimulate and encourage larger and
larger appropriations, and to insure vigilance in their expenditure. Patriotism
and philanthropy are dull motives to exertions for the improvement of common
schotjls compared with parental affection. And this quickening power has gone
off to the academies or somewhere else with the children, who are the objects
of it.

190 JAMES G. CARTER.

Look at the operation of this influence of the academies upon the free schools,
on a still smaller scale. Examine the condition of the latter in the very towns
where academies are placed ; and where, if their influence bo a happy one, we
should e.xpect to find the common .schools in the best condition. What is the
fact? From observation and from information, collected from authentic sources,
the assertion may be hazarded that the condition of the free schools will be found,
on examination, to be worse, far worse, in those towns than in any others. And it
is for this plain reason : because those who can barely afford the expense of tuition,
will send their children to the academy, which the state or benevolent individuals
liave built up for thi-ir acconnnodation, and p^ivc themselves no further trouble
about the free schools, but to pay the tax-bill for their support, when it is pre-
sented.

Thus the men, who would have the most interest in the subject, the most in-
telligence and the most leisure to conduct the concerns of the town schools, secede
from them, and join themselves to other institutions. Abolish the academy and
leave these six families of each town to the free schools alone, and you would find
all their powers assiduously employed to put them in the best condition possible.
Or rather put the free schools in a state to afford as jsjood instruction as the acade-
mies now do, and you would supersede, in a great degree, the necessity of them.
And it is apprehended that it would be quite easy to place them upon a footing
to give even better instruction, at least in all the elementary branches of a com-
mon education, than the academies now give or ever have given.

In 1827, Mr. Carter presented a memorial to tlie legislature, pray-
ing for aid in tlie establishment of a seminary for the education of
teachers, with a model school attached. The memorial was favorably
reported on by a committee, of which the Hon. William B. Calhoun,
of Springfield, Mass., was chairman, and a bill, making an appropria-
tion, was lost b)^ one vote in the senate. In that year, the town of
Lancaster appropriated a portion of land, and the use of an academy
building, to aid him in carrying out his plan as a private enterprise.
He purchased several dwelling-houses, to accoinmodate his pupils and
teachers with lodgings and board, hired assistants, who were to be
taught by himself on his plan, and opened his school. Within a few
months after his school opened, the people of Lancaster, who did not
comprehend the full and ultimate public benefits of the new institu-
tion, began to manifest opposition, and threw such obstacles in his
way, that he was obliged to abandon his project, as a public enter-
prise, after having embarrassed himself by his pecuniary outlays for
buildings and teachers. He, however, continued to give instruction
for many years afterward to private pupils, many of whom are now
successful teachers in different parts of the Union.

In 1830, Mr. Carter assisted in the establishment of the American
Institute of Instruction, of which he was for many years an officer
and an active member. At its first session he deliv^ered a lecture on
" the development of the intellectual faculties ;' and, in 1831, he gave
another on " the necessity and most practicable means of raising the
qualifications of teachers."

In 1835, and for several years afterward, he was a member of the
legislature ; for three years, of the house of representatives ; and, in
1838-39, of the senate; and, in that position, as chairman of the

JAMES G. CARTER.

191

committee on education, drafted several able reports and bills, to pro-
mote the cause of educational improvement. During his first terra,
he secured the appropriation of three hundred dollars a year in aid
of the objects of the American Institute of Instruction. In the same
session he submitted an elaborate report in favor of "an act to pro-
vide for the better instruction of youth, employed in manufacturing
establkhments," — which the Hon. Rufus Choate characterized as "a
measure of large wisdom and expanded benevolence, which makes it
practicable and safe for Massachusetts to grow rich by manufacture
and by art." In 183G, as chairman of the same committee, he re-
ported a bill for the appointment of a superintendent of common
schools, and advocated the establishment of a seminary for the pro-
fessional education of teachers.

In 1837, Mr. Carter made a vigorous effort in the house to secure
the appropriation of one-half of the United States surplus revenue,
for the education of common school teachers. His speech, on the
second of February, for this object, is an able exposition of the claims
of free schools for efficient and liberal legislation, and of the necessity
of an institution devoted exclusively to the appropriate education of
teachers for them. His amendment was lost ; but he had the satis-
faction, at a later period of the session, to draft the bill establishing
the Board of Education, which was adopted.

Unfortunately for the cause of popular education, and his own per-
manent reputation as a teacher and educator, Mr. Carter was drawn
away from his school and his study, to plunge into the noisy discus-
sions of politics, and to become involved in the crash of financial
speculations and disasters. By so doing he exposed his good name
to the detraction and persecution of men whose enmity he had pro-
voked by pecuniary losses and the too strenuous advocacy of tem-
perance and other reformatory movements of the day. Great as
were the services rendered to public schools by his pen and his voice, —
by pamphletand by legislation, — his pre-eminent practical talents might
have achieved larger results in the organization and administration
of schools of different grades, and his clear, vigorous, logical intellect
might have poured floods of light over the whole field of education.

Mr. Carter was married, in May, 1827, to Miss Anne M. Packard,
daughter of Rev. Asa Packard, formerly of Lancaster. He was a
confiding, sympathizing husband, and his wife was entirely worthy
of his confidence and love. To his only child, a daughter, he was at
once father, brother, and teacher. Whatever were his own cares and
burdens, they never made him forgetful of his family. He was the
light and warmth of his home ; no eclipse was ever visible there. Mr.
Carter died at Chicago, on the 21st of July, 1849.

102 JAMES G. CARTER.

MEMORIAL OF JAMES G. CARTER

TO THK

LEGISLATURE OF MASSACHUSETTS, AND THE REPORT OF THE

COWiMITTEE OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

ON A SEMINARY FOR TEACHERS, IN 1827.

To the Hon. Senate and House of Representatives of the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts, in General Court assembled, the undersigned begs leave most
respectfully to represent : —

That he is about to open a seminar)' in a central part of the state, for the gener-
al instruction of children and youth of both sexes, and also for the particular in-
struction of those who may resort to him for that purpose, in the science of edu-
cation; or in the best means of developing the physical, moral, and intellectual
powers of the young by judicious and wholesome exercise of those powers, and,
at a subsequent period, of conveying to their minds the greatest amount of useful
knowledge.

In regard to the department for general purposes, first above named, your me-
morialist believes that the public demand for a more practical education than is
commonly afforded by our schools and colleges in their present state has become
so strong and decided as to render it safe for individual enterprise to attempt to
answer that demand. And he would not now ask the attention of your honor-
able body to that part of his plan further than to observe that, in his view, it may,
without prejudice to itself, be made greatly subservient to the department for the
education of teachers.

The necessity of some systematic preparation of instructors of youth, before
they enter upon their duties, is so obvious, upon the slightest consideration ; and
the want of teachers, better qualified to govern and instruct our common schools
than our present means are adequate to supply, has been so severely felt in every
part of the state ; that your memorialist believes it would even be safe for indi-
vidual enterprise to enter upon that department, to a limited extent. But, as
no seminary for this purpose has, to his knowledge, been established in this
country •, and as the establishment of one would necessarily require the invest-
ment of a considerable capital, as well as the expense of much valuable time, in
order to conduct it so as to produce the best results ; its advantages, even upon
the most economical ai'rangement that can be made, must be put at a price above
the ability of large and important classes of the community to pay. In this view
of the subject, it has occurred to your memorialist, that if your honorable body —
the chosen guardians of those schools which contain, at this and every moment,
one-third of the whole population of the state — would extend to private enter-
prise a moderate amount of public patronage, it would so far diminish the necessary
expenses of the institution to individuals, as to open its doors to all who would
aspire to the responsible employment of teachers of youth.

By this union t)f private and public moans — by private enterprise controlled by
public wisdom — your memorialist believes that a seminary for the education of
teachers might be at once commenced upon a scale more commensurate with its
importance to the community, more adequate to the public demands for better
instruction, more in keeping with the fundamental principle of the free schools,
and more consonant with the whole spirit of our free institutions.

James G. Carter,

The Committee, of which Hon. William B. Calhoun, of Sprinor-
field, was chairman, submitted the following

REPORT.

The Select Committee, to whom was referred " so much of His Excellency
the Governor's Message as relates to the subject of a Seminary for the Instruc-
tion of School Teachers," and to whom was also referred the memorial of James
G. Carter, upon the same subject, respectfully report the accompanying bill.

JAME3 G. CARTER. I93

Thoy also ask leave to report further, that although legislative enactment upon
the subject submitted to their consideration be entirely new, yet the attention of
the community has been so repeatedly called to it, that pubhc opinion concerning
it may with safety be said already to have beeomo unquestionably settled. Dis-
cussions in regard to it have been carried on for a considerable period past in
this and the neighboring states.

At tirst, the views taken of it were necessarily indefinite ; and, although the
sentiment has become general that an institution for the instruction of school-
teachers would be of incalculable benetit, yet, as no one had developed a plan, by
which the object could be accon)plished, the whole subject seemed to be im-
pressed with a visionary and impracticable character. Recently, however, at-
tempts have been made, and, as your committee believe, with great success, to
reduce these general vievvs to a standard of practical utility. JMen have been in-
duced to bestow their thoughts upon the subject, who — from their situation in
the community — from their acquaintance with the .science and practice of educa-
tion— from their deep sense of the wants of the public, made apparent more par-
ticularly by the failure of many successive attempts to improve the chai'acter and
elevate the standard of the free schools — and from the loud complaints which have
been uttered on all sides, of the delieiency of good schoolmasters — might very
naturally have been selected as specially fitted to examine and investigate the sub-
ject, and to apply the proper remedies. The consequence has been, that several
plans of a school of instruction, for the purposes contemplated, have already
been presented to the public ; and your committee have very fortunately been
able to avail themselves of the fruits of extensive researches in the premises.

The committee have had their attention called more particularly to the state-
ments and explanations of the memorialist, whose petition has been before them.
From a mature consideration of his plan of instruction, they are unanimously of
opinion, that it is entirely practical in its character, simple in its details, and pecul-
iarly calculated to develop the powers of the mind, and that the studies it re-
quires are brought wholly and appropriately within the pale of downright utility.
It is unnecessary here to go beyond a meie outline.

The attention of the student is to be called primarily to a course of reading upon
the subject of education: he is to be instructed thoroughly in all the branches
perUiining to his profession, particularly in all that portion of solid learning calcu-
lated to fit him to communicate the knowledge required in the common free
schools in the country. A peculiar character of usefulness will be stamped upon
the institution proposed, by connecting with it an experimental school, consisting
entirely of young children, pursuing the ordinary routine of instruction. Here the
student will see the whole course of management and discipline requisite in a
school, placed obviously and palpably before him. Theory and practice will thus
be intimately blended, and the student be led gradually into a knowledge of his
appropriate duties, in precisely the same manner in which tact and capacity are
acquired in all the other pursuits of life. Indeed, the institution contemplated
amounts simply to an attempt to bring the business of school-teaching into a sys-
tem, from which it has heretofore alone and most unaccountably been excluded.

Whilst the committee incline to the opinion, that this institution should bo de-
tached entirely from all other pursuits, and be devoted wholly and distinctly to
the simple object in view, they would not be considered as deciding definitely
that it could not be safely connected with some of the literary establishments of
the state. Some undoubted advantages, particularly those of concentrated effort
and action, will, in the opinion of the committee, give an institution of the former
character a decided superiority over one of the latter description. In all proba-
bility, the wants of the public will require both to be resorted to.

In regard to details generally on the subject, the committee believe they may
with great propriety be left to the discretion and judgment of the Board of Com-
missioners, whose appointment is provided for in the accompanying bill. A suffi-
cient object will now be gained, if the legislature can be satisfied that the plan, in
its character and principles, is feasible and practicable. Its simplicity can not but
be seen to be particularly distinguishing.

It needs at this time neither argument nor an exhibition of facts, to demonstrate
tt> the legislature, that the free schools of the commonwealth are not such as they
ought to be— that they fail, most essential'v, of accomplishing the high objects for

194 JAMES G. CARTER.

which they were eptablishcf!, and toward tlie support of which so large an amount
of money is annually raised amongst tho people. Upon this subject public opin-
ion ia fully settled.

Nor is there any difficulty in arriving at the true cause. Can it, in the large
majority of cas<'S, be tract d to any other than the incompetency of teachers ?
And in this fact there is nothing mysterious. Can the teachers be otherwise than
incompetent, when no ])ains are taken to instruct them in the business of their
profession — when, in one word, they are not reputed or constituted a profession ?

The great and leading object of school-teachers should be, to harn how to
communicate knowledge ; yet, although the statutes of the state require them to
be thoroughly examined as to their qualifications, it is hardly necessary to remark,
that their capabilities in reference to the important object alluded to are, and must
be, from the very nature of the thing, kept entirely out of sight. And this state
of things must, in the opinion of the committee, continue, and indeed grow worse
and worse, until some provision is made for bringing about an end of so much
consequence.

The several towns in the commonwealth are obliged by law to raise money for
the support of schools : the sums contributed by the people for this purpose are
of immense amount. Is it not, btwond question, the sacred duty of the legisla-
ture to see to it, that these contributions are made, in the highest pf»ssib]e degree,
serviceable ? Ought it not, as a matter of course, to be expected that the people will
complain, if the government are inactive and indifferent, where such is the stake?
In what more suitable and rational way can the government interpose, than in
providing the means for furnishing the schools with competent instructois — and
in encouraging the esUiblishment of seminaries, whose object shall be to teach the
art of communicating knowledge ?

Your committee ask the attention of the legislature to the ready patronnge,
wliich, in past time, has been extended to the interests of learning in the higher
institutions. They dwell, and the li^gislature and tho people whom they repre-
sent can not but dwell, with proud satisfaction, upon the cheering recollections
which the bare allusion can not fail to bring up. In time gone by, the fathers of
the commonwealth have not been unmindful of the claims which the interests of
literature have presented. These claims have not been disallowed.

But it is obvious to remark, that the patronage of the state has heretofore imi-
formly been extended to the higher institutions alone. No heai'ty interest has
ever been manifested, at least in the form now contemplated, in the success and
improvement of the free schools of the land. Your committee ask, and ask with
great conMdence, whether the time has not arrived, when an efficient and foster-
ing hand should be held forth by the legislature to these important institutions ?
The object in view, it will not be deemed invidious to remark, is not for the bene-
fit of the few. but of the many, of the whole. We call then the attenjion of the
legislature to this pervading interest — the interest of the mass of the people ; we
ask them to cherish, encourage, and promote it; we ask them to let this conmiu-
nity see that they are themselves in earnest in their endeavors to advance their
true welfare.

Nor can the influence of education in the maintenance of our republican insti-
tutions here be overlooked. It is upon the diffusion of sound liarning that we
must mainly depend, if we mean to preserve these institutions healthful and en-
during. These interests are intimately and deeply connected. But, for the great
purposes in view, the learning to be diffiised must be tliat which can be brought
home to the business and bosom of every individual in tho land. It is the every-
day, the common -sense instruction, which we must scatter abroad. All must be
thoroughly educated, in order that all may be truly freemen.

No words, in the opinion of your committee, can sufficiently express the mag-
nitude and importjjnce of this subject. It is one, upon which the attention of
the legislature of Massachusetts should be particularly fastened. To Massachu-
setts it eminently pertains to take the lead in the project, which can not fail to
accomplish so much in advancing the character, and securing the prosperity oi
the free schools. Here the system was fii-sl adopted. The pilgrims, from whom
we derive honorable descent, placed the first hand upon the work. It be-
longs to the descendants of those pilgrims, and upon the ground where they trod,
,to finish and sustain it. For the Committee, W. B. Caliiou.n.

WARREN COLBURN.

The Colburns were among the primitive settlers of Dedliam, Mass.
Nathaniel Colburn, the common ancestor, was a resident of the town
as early as the year 1639, and was one of the Selectmen, from 1651,
five consecutive years. He had eleven children, five sons and six
daughters. All }»is sons married and settled in Dedham, and had
children.

Samuel Colburn was the paternal grandfather of Warren. His
wife was Marcy Dean. They lived together to an advanced age, and
had twelve children. The last part of their lives was cotemporary
with Warren, and they spent their latter days and died in his father's
family. One of their sons was Lieut. Lewis Colburn, who served in
the Revolutionary War, was a volunteer from Dedham for the sup-
pression of the Shay's rebellion, and died, June 1, 1843, at the age
of ninety-one.

Richard Colburn, the father of Warren, married Joanna Eaton,
whose mother and his maternal grandmother was Mary Eaton, by
second marriage Mary Dean ; who was very favorably noticed by liei
pastor, the Rev. Dr. Lamson, in a printed funeral discourse, preached
the Sunday after her interment. He says : " She was of old Ded-
hani ancestry. She was a communicant of this chuich seventy-eight
years; having been admitted August 30, 1772. She had naturally a
strong mind, and clear perceptions ; and, her faculties she did not suf-
fer to rust out; and, there was but little failure of them 'to the last.
Some indications of an infirm memory began to manifest themselves,
but into the period of second childhood she never fell." She died,
October 13th, 1850, in the ninety-ninth year of her age.

Warren, the first-born child of Richard Colburn and Joanna (Eaton)
Colburn, was born the day his mother was twenty years of age,
March 1st, 1793, in the part of Dedham called Pond Plain. Some-
time in the year 1794 or 6, the family moved into Clapboard trees
parish, where they resided about six years. Richard Colburn, being
the Youngest of his father's large family, had his parents, Samuel and
Marcy Colburn, in his own family from the time he became a house-

1 00 WARREN COLBURN.

keeper till tlieir deaths. After a short residence at High Kock, the
family moved, in 1800 or 1, to Milford. The grandparents were
exceedingly fond of Warren, and he was affectionate and obedient to
them. At the age of four, he was sent to a Summer District School,
and had care and charge of his sister, about two years old. The
father was a farmer, and the son was early put to do a boy's work on
the farm. At Milford, he began to attend the Winter District Schools
while they kept. He was esteemed a good and truthful boy, and was
never addicted to profane or foul language. His grandmother died
suddenly at Milford, about the year 1802. His grandfather lived
about three yeare after, and died in 1805, at the age of ninety -one
years, when Warren, was about twelve. From Milford, the family
moved, about the year 1806, to Uxbridge. Here, as before, his occu-
pation was on the farm, and his education chiefly what was afforded
in the winter terms of the Common Schools, wherein his taste and
expertness in arithmetic was manifest. This talent was discovered and
encouraged by his father. Mr. Gideon Alby, a poor and infirm man,
good at figures and used to teaching, was taken into the family for
the purpose of giving Warren instruction in cyphering during the fall
and winter evenings. He was already aspiring to a more extensive
scope for enterprise than the farm presented. In about 1810, the
family, on his account, moved to Pawtucket, R. I, where he was put
to labor and learn something of machinery with Mr. John Fields, a
machinist. There they lived about a year, and moved thence to Can-
ton, 1812. They resided in the vicinity of the factory, where he
found employment on machinery, and others of the children in con-
nection with the factory. He remained at his occupation when the
family moved to a farm near the line of Dedhani, toward Walpole,
and, not long after, to Webb's Factory, in the border of Walpole. In
about 1813, during the war with England, and while he was in Can-
ton, he learned to weave of Capt. Williams, a Norwegian, whose wife
was an English lady. He went to Plymouth, in about 1814, where
he wrought in machinery, which, being in the war time, was then
rather a profitable as well as a rapidly extending business. From
Plymouth he went to Easton, in the early part of 1815, still working
in the same line of engagement at the factory in that place, and con-
tinued there some months after the declaration of peace. In the
summer of this year, and, at the age of twenty -two and a half years,
he began to fit for college. The Rev. Dr. Richmond, for about a
quarter of a century the settled minister of Stoughton, discharged also
from time to time the office of teacher, and fitted pupils for college.
Under his tuition young Colburn placed himself. A fellow-pupil 'was

WARREN COl.BURN. iy7

Henry G. W''Iieaton, sou of Daniel Wlieaton, Esq., of Norton, a
gentleman of wealth and of education. The two pupils were soon
friends, and the friend of the son was readily befriended by the father,
who kindly arranged with Colburn to lend him such sums of money
as he might have occasion to borrow for defraying his college
expenses. It is said to have stimulated the son to the completion of
liis preparatory studies, so that the two might enter together, and be
room-mates in college. Says Mr. Wheaton : " We lived together iu
the same room for about five years; at Mr. Richmond's, fitting for
college, about one year, and four years in college ; the most of the
time engaged substantially in the same studies. Of course, being
class-mates and occupying the same room, we were intimately
acquainted, and met many times after leaving college, particularly
while he was in Boston."

His college life, at this late period, will be best portrayed by such
recollections of his class-mates as can now be gathered. Soon after
his decease, there appeared an anonymous newspaper article attributed
to Dr. Edward G. Davis, who was, at the time it was written, a prac-
tising physician in Boston, of respectable connections and standing,
and wdio died in Philadelphia in less than six years afterwards, and
before completing his thirty -seventh year. If any slight discrepancies
or repetitions are discovered in the different sketches, the portraiture,
as a whole, will not, it is hoped, be considered the less valuable. The
following is the article of Dr. Davis«

IIGMIM6CBNCE8 OF A CLASS-MATC.

Mr. Warren Colburn, whose death was recently announced in the papers,
passed the years 1817 [1816] to 20 at Harvard College. It was there that he
developed that fondness for the higher branches of mathematical studies, and that
talent for analysis, which continued so remarkable in his after life. It is the im-
pression of the writer that he entered college only with the usual preparatory
knowk'dge in this branch ; but, while there, he made himself master of the cal-
culus, and read through a considerable part of the great work of Laplace. He
commenced his collegiate course at the comparatively late age of 24, when both
his mind and his character hud reached a degree of maturity much exceeding
that of the great proportion of his fellow-students. It was only by slow degrees,
however, that his talents and his virtues made their due impression on the minds
of those around him. With a sensitiveness almost allied to timidity, he shrunk
from familiarity even with those with whom he most constantly held intercourse,
and there are many who can remember, when the jest and thelaugh went round,
how little Colburn partook in the boisterous merriment. There was in him a
peculiar diffidence about obtruding himself or his thoughts upon others ; a dispo-
sition to stand back, and, only when strongly urged, to join in the scheme which
formed the attraction of the moment. Yet, was he possessed of great, nay, of
peculiar kindness of feeling ; no angry ^^ord ever escaped his lips, rio expression
that breathed of aught but benevolence and good will. A little circumstance, but
one which is no doubt familiar to the recollection of all who knew him at the time,
and which seems intimately interwoven with the general texture of his character,
was a hesitation in speaking, slight indeed, but sufficient to make it an effort to
him to express himself, and to call up an evident embarrassment when he attempted
it. Many yeare after, when the writer again saw him, this hesitation of maumf

108 WARREN COLBURN.

appeared to bo unnltercd. It was no doubt one of the causes wliich rendered him
shy vf cnp;aging in general conversation, nor did he, in conversing, always do
justice to the vigor and force of his own tliouiihis. To this difiidenee and slow-
ness of manner was it owing that a just estimate of his powers was formed by
only a very small proportion of his early friends. It was, indeed, known that he
pursued his mathematical investigations with gn-at ardor and zeal; and, his ac-
quaintance v.'ith these subjects were, in some degree, made evident in liis recita-
tions. But, the accuracy with which his exercises in the languages were prepared,
and the foundation he was laying in the science of philology, were suspected only
by a few of the more discerning members of his class. Yet, it was a fact, that
he studied languages with no less thoroughness than the abstract sciences ; and,
the involved and difficult passages in Aristotle were analyzed by liim with neither
less care nor less success than the propositions of Newton and the foimulas of
Laplace. This circumstance was little known at the time, but may readily be
believed by those who have noticed with what success his mind has recently been
directed into similar investigations, resulting in the production of an elementiiry
work on grammar ; a subject to which it would hardly have been anticipated that
a mind like his would have directed its energies.

His great and most interesting project, that of improving the system of ele-
mentin-y instruction in mathematical science, appears to have occurred to him
during the latter piirt of his college life, and was the subject of painful thought,
many years before his first work made its appearance. It required, indeed, no
small energy of mind thus to break through the trammels of early education, and
strike out a new path ; for, Colburn, like others, had been brought up under a
systcin the reverse of that which he now undert(X)k to mature and introduce.
This is not the occasion, nor is it the writer's purpose to attempt a criticism on the
system itself. The author may have followed out a single principle more closely,
and applied it more extensively, than the interests of education required. But,
such was the readiness with which it was adopted, that, in the course of a few
years, the appearance of these little books seemed to have revolutionized the mode
of teaching elementary mathematics in the schools of New England. Various
modifications have since been introduced into his plan, for which, whether im-
provements or otherwise, little credit can be claimed on the score of originality ;
and, it may with safety be asserted that, whatever in the present mode of teach-
ing the science of numbers in our schools distinguishes it from that in use twenty
years since, is mainly to be attributed to his publications.

In the constitution of Mr. Colburn's mind, many eiicumstances were peculiar.
His mentid operations were not rapid, and it was only by great patience and long-
continued thought that he achieved his objects. Tliis peculiarity, which was
joined with an uncommon power of abstraction, he possessed in common with
some of the most gifted minds which the world has produced. Newton, himself,
said that it was only by patient reflection that he had arrived at his great results,
and not by sudden or rapid flights. In Colburn this slowness and patience of in-
vestigation were leading traits. It was not his habit, perhaps not within his
power, to arrive at rapid conclusions on any subject. If this tended, as probably
it did, to impart to his conversation that hesitating manner which I have men-
tioned ; if it made him appear moi-e absent and thoughtful than quite befitted the
animation of social intercourse, it yet had its advantages. His conclusions,
reached slowly and painfully, were established on a solid basis, and the silent pro-
gress of time, that great test of truth, has served but to verify and confirm them.

Such, imperfectly stated, are the writer's college recollections of Mr. Colburn.
He has little to add to them, derived from a knowledge of his subsequent career.
He soon passed into a station in life which lie was well qualified to fill, and the
duties of vvljieh he conscientiously and ably ]>erformed. More extensive inter-
course with the world served, no doubt, to divest him of some prejudices, and to
improve his qualifications for social life ; but, in seeing him occasionally daring the
last thirteen years, the writer found th# exquisite simplicity of his manner still
retained, and his habits of thought appeared to have experienced very little altera-
tion. From the same mild, gentle eye beamed the same benevolence of expres-
sion, and the friend and associate of former days stood again confessed. Alas !
that the recollection of the past can never more be refreshed by another meeting,
that tlie form which is portrayed so vividly in the fancy of surviving friends, has
passed from earth, and will be no more among men. But, while the present

WARREN COLBURN.

199

generation remains, will that form be clierished in grateful hearts ; and, even when
all who knew his worth shall have departed, his name will be preserved, in con-
nection with works, at once the evidence of the energy of liis mind and of the
benevolonco which directed its application. He has performed a good work on
earth, which shall not be taken from him, even when his remains, now slumber-
ing beneath it, shall have crumbled to dust. Though dead, he will yet speak to
those for whose instruction he zealously labored, while living ; and, no long as
education asserts its claims to respect among us, the name of Colburn shall be
numbered among a people's benefactors.

The Rev. Benjamin Kent, of Roxbury, writes, June, 1856 : —

Being older than those who entered college with us, and of nearly the same
age, we soon became intimate associates. In our Junior year, we hud a " part"
together, — the translation of a Greek dialogue into English. I can, mentally, see
the room, and the bland and loving countenance he wore when we were engaged
together in our work : and, during our whole college life, whatever may be true
of others, I never heard an expression of any feeling toward him than that of
adrnirati(»n for his dispositions, counsels, and intellectual gifts. It may, indeed, be
said that he brought with him to college a decided taste for mathematics. We none
of us ever thought of approaching near to him in this science. He early studied
and made himself perfectly familiar with the French language, with a distinct view
to mastering every French mathematician of promise which lie had not met with
or seen referred to. In saying this, liowever, I do not mean to say that he did not
excel in every other department of a college education. He always ranked among
the first s<;holars of his class in every thing but public speaking. " Oratory ! " he
used to say, with a soul-prompted smile and brilliancy of eye, " I am no orator,
as Brutus is; " and we all lamented that his vast erudition, for so young a man,
could not be freely communicated to a promiscuous audience, or sometimes even
in the recitation room, in consequence of his modesty and a slight impediment in
utterance. To sum up what I learned in the course of intimacy and fi-iendship,
which was never for a moment interrupted, I need only say, what I do say with
the deepest sincerity, that he never gave evidence of carelessness in a recitation
room, of unkindness to any one who applied to him for sympathy or counsel, or
of envy, jealousy, or self-assurance, when a few others were selected to appear
before audiences in higher parts than those assigned to him. Taking our studies
altogether, I am confident that he had not his superior if his equal, as a scholar,
gentleman, and Christian, in the class of which we were members.

The Rev. E. B. Hall, D. D., of Providence, May, 1856, writes: —

I have no memorial of him except those of the mind and the heart ; but, they
are very precious. His image and whole character stand before me as entire, defi-
nite, and life-like as those of any early friend, departed or hving. Some of my
associates in college have passed almost wholly from my memory ; but, Colburn
is as if I had seen him yesterday, or were at this moment listening to his slow
utterance, but pleasant voice, and clear thoughts, in the recitation room, or the
private interview. Though not peculiarly intimate, he being much my senior, and
wholly unknown to me previously, I knew him enough, and was with him enough,
to form the highest opinion of his character as a man of stern integrity, transpa-
rent simplicity, freedom from all guile or pretence, and invincible moral courage.
I doubt if any force could have driven, — I am sure no lure could have enticed
him into a single mean action or false word. There was no one in my whole col-
lege acquaintance to whom I should have gone more readily for counsel in any
emergency, or to whose eare I would more willingly have committed any trust.

Colburn was not a splendid scholar, nor able to do full justice, either in speech
or with the pen, to liis own clear perceptions and actual knowledge. This was
owing to a natuial diffidence, small povver of expression, and, as I suppose a want
of early advantages. But, in clearness of thought, soundness of judgment, the
habit of discrimination, and, above all, mathematical genius, he was surpassed by
few. His position in the class was always respectable, and, in the end, high. He
had as little ordinary ambition as any mortal could have. He loved study for its
own sake, not for appearance or immediate effect. He was fiithful to every duty,
and, by a uniformly consistent deportment, and quiet, straightforward course, won

200

WARREN COLBURN.

the oonfi«]oncc of all his teachers, and the respect of all his fellow pupils •, while
some were bound to him as by fraternal affection.

After our college life, I visited him once or twice in I^owell, and saw manifetst
tokens of ripened character and advancing intellect. He seemed to me to give
promise of great usefulness, if not of high distinction. His death affected me as
a personal as well as a public loss. A good impression of his features hangs in my
study, but a better one in my heart. I should be sorry to believe that I shall
never meet him again.

Mr. Sparks, ex-President of Ilarvard College, says, 1856 : —

He was a student in college during about a year and a half while I was a tutor.
I left Cambridge in tlie early part of his Junior year, and I do not remember to
have seen him afterwards. All my recollections of him, as a student, in regard
to his character, deportment, and scholarship, are of the most favorable kind. He
held a high rank in his class, particularly in the mathematical department, in
which I was an instructor. I was not then aware of his peculiar and remarkable
gifts in that branch of science which he subsequently manifested.

Tlie Rev. Dr. Gannett, under date of January, 1856, writes : —

Mr. Colburn was older than most of his class-mates, and did not foi-m intima-
cies with many of them. Indeed, his only very intimate friend, as I suppose, was
James G. Carter, afterwards of Lancaster, who died some yeai"s since. Carter and
he, after " commons," would go off together for long walks, talking, as the rest of us
believed, on metaphysical and mathematical subjects, in the former of which Carter,
and, in the latter, Colburn was most interested. We all respected Colburn. He was,
far and fir away, our first mathematical scholar, and respectable in all branches.
His moral character was stainless, and, it was taken for granted that he would do
right ; for, we looked on him as a man, rather than as one of us lads. He was
always kind in disposition, and agreeable in manners ; so far, at least, as my im-
pression of him is just; but, he did not associate very much with his class-mates,
and was regarded as an honorable, studious, and exemplary person, rather than
as one with whom we could be very free. He used his time faithfully, and left
college, I believe, without any occurrence to mar the pleasure he must have had
in recalling his course through the four years.

Dr. Palmer, of Boston, Jan , 15, 1856, writes : —

Colburn's parents being in humble life and not blessed with this world's goods,
(although they were highly respected by their neighbors,) he was dependent on
his own exertions for a subsistence. He was brought up to the business of a ma-
chinist, at which he labored for some years. I know not what induced him to
quit his business and determine to obtain a liberal education. He was fitted for
college by the Rev. Edward Richmond, D. D., of Stoughton. But, in all the
studies required for admission into college, with the exception of mathematics, he
was illy prepared 5 for, he told me himself that he was only one year in fitting ;
having begun to study the Latin Grammar on Commencement Day, the year
before he entered. The consequence was that, in classical studies, while in col-
lege, he never shone ; but, in mathematics, he was, longo intervallo, ahead of all
his class-mates.

The Rev. Dr. Furness, of Philadelphia, was also of the same class,
and writes, Jan. 20, 1856 : —

I remember him as, by a number of years, the senior of the majority of our
class. Ho was respected by all. Every class-mate of his will bear witness to his
manly character, and to his devotion to his favorite study.

He lived, in his senior year, I think it was, in Stoughton Hall, on the west side,
not far from the college bell. I recollect his chum's telling us, one day, that he
missed Colburn at morning prayers, then at six o'clock ; he missed him at recita-
tion, likewise, about half an hour after, and he missed him also at breakfast, at
half- past seven. He did not know what had become of him, and supposed he had
gone upon an early walk, and wandered t<io far to return in time for breakfast.
However, his chum, upon returning to his room after breakfast, opened the door

WARREN COLBURN. 201

of Colburn's study, and found him standing there at his desk, lost in mathemati-
cal studies. The bell had rung out its summons three several times, but, sis he
said, he had not heard it. We all believed it was exactly so. lie was too unpre-
tending find simple to affect any thing.

Again, I recollect being in Prof. Farrar's recitation room. After recitation,
when the first scholar of our class stopped to point out a mistake in our text-book,
Prof. Farrar agreed with him that it was an error. Colburn, who happened to
overhear them, (he was the only otluT person, beside myself, in the room,) struck
in and observed that there was no mistake. I remember I knew not which most
to admire, the superior acuteness of Colburn, or the cand(^r and interest with
which, without any false pride, the Professor listened to his pupil. Of his great
mathematical talent who docs not know.

He took his first collegiate degree with his class at the commence-
ment, in August, 1820. In the public exercises of the occasion, his
appointment was ranked an honorable one. His " part " was " On
the benefit accruing to an individual from a knowledge of the Physi-
cal Sciences," which he creditably sustained. The subject was
assigned to him by the Faculty ; but, probably selected with some
view to its adaptation to his taste and turn of thought. The follow-
ing passages are given as illustrative of his habitual thoughts and
purpose.

The purpose of education is to render a man happy as an individual, and agree-
able, useful, and respectable, as a member of society. To do this, he ought to
cultivate all the powers of his mind, and endeavor to acquire a general knowledge
of every department of literature and science, and a general acquaintance with
the world by habits of conversation. And, this is not inconsistent with the most
intense application to a favorite pursuit.

The Physical Sciences belong to all the professions ; and, not only to them, but
to all men, in every situation. There is not a human being, who has not some-
thing to do with these sciences. They are the science of life. Every child, as
soon as he begins to learn any thing, begins to learn the rudiments of them. But,
it is the rudiments only that he learns, the abstruse principles are to be discovered
by patient and diligent study.

It is true, indeed, that a very large portion of the community have neither time
nor opportunity to acquire them, by their own exertions ; and yet, the greatest
advantage might be derived from these sciences, in the hands of this class of citi-
zens, because they possess the means of applying them more immediately to useful
purposes. The knowledge of these sciences, therefore, is to be circulated by the
favored few who have the means of knowing them ; and, it becomes the duty of
every one who possesses the means, not only to acquire them himself, and to do
what he can to improve them, but to promote the diffusion of them among man-
kind, and to be always ready to give any information in his power concerning
them to all who may need it.

The bent of his mind is here to be plainly seen. Education was
the subject to which he was chiefly inclined, and teaching was his
favorite pursuit. On leaving the university, he undertook the work
of teaching, and kept a select school in Boston. He already had the
experience of them who, working their way through a course of col-
lege education, resort to school keeping in the winter. He had taught
in Boston, in Leominster, in Canton, and, thus early practiced, he soon
became an accomplished teacher. His lecture on this subject, deliv-
ered before the American Institute of Instruction, in 1830, presents a

202 WARREN COLBURN.

luminous view of bis own mind and experience, and is well worth-
the attention of teachers.

The number of bis pupils in Boston was not large at first ; and
did not, at any time, exceed from about twenty-five to thirty. His
friend, Mr. Carter, in a letter of 1821, writes : "I congratulate you
on your success in your school. From what I bear, as well from
other sources as from youi-self, I apprehend that you have a pretty
strong hold on the good opinion of the respectable part of the com-
munity. There are few of us so well qualified, both by nature and
education, as you are for this important station in society. My prayer
is that you go on and prosper ; and, take that elevated rank in society
which your talents, your acquirements, and your virtues so eminently
qualify you to maintain."

It was while engaged in keeping this school that he produced his
"First Lessons in Intellectual Arithmetic." He must have begun to
make the book about the time that he commenced the school. Per-
haps the work was previously conceived. It was probably put to
press in the autumn of 1821. His friend, Mr. Carter, Nov. 9, speaks
of it as forthcoming, and, Dec. 15, as having been received by him at
Lancaster.

Mr. Batchelder, of Cambridge, states : " I remember once, in con-
versing with him with respect to his Arithmetic, he remarked that the
pupils who were under his tuition made his arithmetic for him : that
he had only to give attention to the questions they asked, and the
proper answers and explanations to be given, in order to anticipate
the doubts and diflSculties that would arise in the minds of other
pupils ; and, the removal of those doubts and diflSculties in the
simplest manner, was the foundation of that system of instruction
which his school-books were the means of introducing." His " First
Lessons " was, unquestionably, the result of his own teaching. He
made the book because he needed it, and because such a book was
needed in the community. He had read Pestalozzi, probably, while
in college. That which suited his taste, that which he deemed prac-
ticable and important, he imbibed and made his own. He has been
sometimes represented as owing his fame to Pestalozzi. That in read-
ing the account and writings of the Swiss philosopher, he derived aid
and confidence in his own investigations of the general principles of
education, is true. But, his indebtedness to Pestalozzi is believed tj
have been misunderstood and overrated.

Upon the first appearance of the " First Lessons," his friend, Mr
Carter, of Lancaster, writes, Dec. 1821 : "I shall see Dr. Thayer this
afternoon, and, if I succeed to my mind with him, your book wih be

WARREN COLBURX. 203

immediately introduced into the academy here. I shall send my copy
to-day to Rev. Mr. Clarke, of Princeton, who is quite engaged in the
instruction of youth. I hope he -svill use his influence to introduce it
in his parish. I think you will do well to send a quantity of them to
the book-store in this town, for sale. I need not tell you that I am
more and more pleased with your book, the more I see of it. I intend
all my scholars shall use it, for I am convinced they have got the sub-
stance of it to learn, however far they may be advanced." On April
12th, 1822, Mr. Carter writes: "Your little book is still doing well.
The bookseller told me, a day or two since, that he had sold a great
many to go out of town. You must get out another edition as soon
as possible, for I think they will be very useful in the summer schools.
Let me know how you progress with your larger arithmetic, and how
you get on with your algebra. I feel much interested in the latter.
But, I have little doubt but you will do the subject justice."

Thus the " First Lessons " worked its way gradually to notice and
favor, — a book which has enjoyed a more enviable success than any
other school-book ever published in this country, and the merits of
which are now universally acknowledged to be equal to its success.
It has been said to be " the only faultless school-book that we have."
It certainly has wrought a great change in the manner of teaching
arithmetic. Its system is received wherever the book is known. It
has no competitors, except in the profits of sale, in the shape of imi-
tations ; and, that these have been numerous is altogether to its credit.
Such a man as George B. Emerson, after twelve years' constant use of
it, long ago pronounced it the most valuable school-book that has made
its appearance in this country. And, Thomas Sherwin, Esq., of the
Boston High School, calls it, not only the best in this country, but, the
best in the world. Its use is believed to be nearly commensurate
with that of the English language, and it has been translated into
other tongues. It has been stated that fifty thousand copies of Col-
burn's First Lessons are annually used in Great Britain ; and, its sale
in this country is about one hundred thousand per annum. About
two millions of copies have been sold since its first publication in this
country.

It will be seen that the Sequel and the Algebra were parts of his
original conception, in connection with the First Lessons, and were in
a state of progress as early as 1822.

He continued his school about two years and a half ; and, though
his teaching must be pronounced successful, as well by the testimony
of his pupils as by that of his book, the production of that period;
vet, owing to his retiring modesty and reluctance to putting himself

204

WARREN COLRURN.

forward, his financial success was but moderate. And, though teach-
ing was his favorite science, and an engagement of which he was
fond, yet, says one who had opportunity to know : " I do not think
he ever intended, even if he had had the greatest success, to make
teaching his ultimate employment. I think that he always had a
predilection for the pursuit which he afterwards followed ; and, felt
that, from his early practical knowledge, added to his scientific, he
was well fitted for the occupation." Visiting in the families of his
pupils, he was introduced to the late Patrick T. Jackson, who, with
his quick perception of the qualifications and abilities of men, soon
discovered in his new acquaintance the talents and acquirements
adapted to a situation which he was then seeking to fill. Mr. Jack-
son offered him the situation of Superintendent of the Boston Manu-
facturing Company, at Waltham, with a much better income than he
was deriving from his school. He accepted the phice without much
hesitation, and went to Waltham, April, 1823.

Here he was successful in his business, was much esteemed, and
made some very valuable friends. Among these, now living, is Dr.
Hobbs, who still cherishes impressions of him " as a man of great
simplicity of character, honest and upright in all his ways, with a
moral character without spot or blemish ; a liberal supporter and pro-
moter of science and the arts, always kind to children and poor
scholars that were trying to get an education, always friendly to all
institutions of morality, religion, and learning, his heart full of benevo-
lence, and his mind ever active to promote the education and well
being of the rising generation."

During his college course, he kept school on two occasions in Can-
ton, Mass. In the winter of 1818, he had for a pupil Miss T. C.
Horton, at that time residing there with her mother. An affectionate
and reciprocal attachment was then commenced, which, after an
acquaintance of about five years, resulted in their marriage on the
28th of August, 1823, about four months after his settlement in
Waltham. The connection was a happy one, and marked with a
very warm and tender affection, to the freshness and fervency of which
there seemed to be no abatement. As well in health as in his last
and only sickness, it was the same ; and, to the very close of life, it
was seen to gush forth from the fullness of his heart, so long as he
had the power to give it expression.

On the 18th of June, 1824, the Superintendent of the Lowell
Merrimack Manufacturing Company, Mr. Ezra Worthen, died instantly,
while engaged in his ordinary duties. Mr. Colburn was appointed his
successor, and removed his residence to Lowell as soon as he could be

WARREN COLBURN. 206

conveniently transferred from his duties in "VYaltham. His removal
was in August, that of his family in October.

He seemed to be well aware of the responsibility of his new position,
as well in a more general as in a business point of view. In his
general relations to the interests of -the community, he was active and
enterprising. He readily perceived and appreciated the peculiar
character of a manufacturing community in New England, and pro-
jected at once a scheme of lecturing, adapted to popular improvement.
His plan was to present common and useful subjects in such a way
as to gain attention, and in such connection with science as to enlighten
and furnish the popular mind. He proposed to occupy the space
between the college halls and the common schools by carrying, so
far as might be found practicable, the design of the Rumford Lectures
of Harvard, into the community of the actual operators of common
life.

Early in the autumn of 1825, and so along through the winter, he
lectured upon the Natural History of animals. With an excellent
magic lantern he illustrated the classification of animals, exhibiting
on the screen specimens of the several classes, of the size and color
of life, and pointing out, while the animal was thus before the com-
pany, its qualities, and the characteristic distinctions of its class. He
lectured upon light ; intermingling with statements of some of its
remarkable facts, explanations and simple illustrations of some of its
familiar phenomena. In a dark room, with his well-managed instru-
ment, he exhibited the rays, applied lenses and explained their effect,
illustrated the refraction of rays by refracting them to the sight.
Some curious optical illusions were exhibited and explained. The
structure of the eye ; the use of lenses, the telescope, the microscope,
were made intelligible to uneducated operatives by his successful
experiments and simple teaching. He lectured upon the seasons;
and, by diagrams thrown upon the screen, and a very simple orrery,
of his own construction, and a skillful adjustment of lights, he illus-
trated the changes of the year ; and, with his plain and lucid explana-
tions, brought the subject to the comprehension of every observer. He
took up the subject of electricity, and, with the help of a machine,
taught and illustrated many things, which it is of practical use to
know. The phenomena of thunder and lightning were presented to
the comprehension and understanding of many who, without a thor-
ough knowledge of the science, even as then developed, gathered
enough to give interest to the storm, to allay unreasonable terror, and
to suggest the ways of safety.

These lectures were given in the years 1825, '20 and '27. They

206

WARREN COLBURN.

were commenced, at least, from two to three years, as is believed,
before the subject of Lyceums, so-cailed, and of Lyceum Lecturing
was broached in New England. The Middlesex County Lyceum,
which was among the early associations of this kind, and of which
Mr. Colburn was chosen one of the Curators, was formed November
16th, 1829. He had attended a meeting of gentlemen of the county,
for maturing the plan, and contributed, from his own experience, im-
poi'tant aid to the enterprise.

In the winter of 1826, what had been called East Chelmsford was
incorporated into the town of Lowell ; and, at the first town-meeting,
held March 6th, Mr. Colburn was chosen one of the Superintending
School Committee. It was of vast consequence to make a good
beginning of the public schools of the town. The duties of the Com-
mittee, by the Statutes of the Commonwealth, and under existing cir-
cumstances, were arduous and responsible. The acting members were
fully aware of their position, its difficulties, and its importance, and
determined to discharge the office faithfully and to the best of their
ability for the interests of the schools. Though laden with other
cares, they spared not the labor nor the time. When the pressure
of other engagements was upon them, they repeatedly held their
meetings at six o'clock in the morning. Mr. Colburn served on this
Committee the first two years, and contributed freely of his wisdom
and pains to the favorable beginning and good condition of the
schools. In town-meetings he took upon himself to look after the
appropriation of money to the schools. He was customarily on the
Committee for dividing the money to the several districts ; and, fre-
quently on other Committees pertaining to the interests of the schools.
In 1831, he was elected again on the General Superintending Com-
mittee, and was, at his own request, excused from serving.

While he was at Waltham, though withdrawn chiefly from the
work of practical education, the subject continued to be his favorite
study, and heavily taxed his leisure moments. He soon finished his
second book, the " Sequel," which came out about the beginning of
the year 1824, which is certainly a work of great ingenuity, which
shows a great mastery of the principles of education, and which he
himself considered a book of more merit and importance than the
First Lessons. Of the Sequel, indeed, it may be said, not only that
its true value has not, in general, been sufficiently estimated, but, that
its actual influence on the use, the understanding, and popularity of
the First Lessons has been appreciated only by particular observers.
Whoever considers by what sort of management school-books are
thrust into and out of the market, and how natural it was for book-

WARREN COLBURN. ^q/^

makers and book-publishers to feei that Colburn had received his
share of profits, will easily see that the Sequel had a severer ordeal to
pass through than the First Lessons, and much greater difficulty in
holding the place to which, by its merits, it might be entitled.

After seven or eight years of successful experiment in the use of
the First Lessons and Sequel, attempts were made in Boston, by imi-
tations and variations, to supersede them, so that his friends applied
to him to make some modification of one or both of the books, so as
to obviate the objections which had been devised. Early in 1833, he
directed his attention to a revision of the Sequel. He perceived that
the objections most relied upon were based upon misapprehensions or
misrepresentations of the distinctive characteristics of the book. He
did not wish to make it an easier book, nor an essentially different
book. That which he was laboring in his mind, was to make its dis-
tinct character more readily apprehended, without injuring it; con-
templating also other slight amendments, in passing. That part of the
labor which such a mind may work out, before putting pen to paper^
except in scraps and hints, intelligible only to himself, he had already
accomplished. His mind had penetrated to the result, with pretty
good hope of being satisfied therewith, — had his life been spared to
attain it. That the event was otherwise is much to be regretted by
the friends of education.

Says Mr. Thomas Sherwin, Principal of the High School, Boston :
" I regard Mr. Colburn as the great benefactor of his age, with respect
to the proper development of the mathematical powers. Pestalozzi,
indeed, first conceived the plan ; but, Mr. Colburn realized the plan,
popularized it, and rendered it capable of being applied by tho
humblest mediocrity. Indeed, I regard the First Lessons as the ne
plus ultra of primary arithmetics. The Sequel is also a very good
work ; but, it needs a pretty intelligent teacher to make it eminently
useful. In his Algebra, Mr. Colburn accomplished much, by render-
ing the study interesting, and by gradually leading the student to a
knowledge of pure algebraical symbols and processes. Mr. Colburn did
much to place algebra within the reach of the mass of learners. He
introduced an original demonstration of the Binomial Theorem, which
is a very good instance of the inductive method of reasoning. He
commences with forming several powersof a binomial by multiplication.
He then examines the law of the letters, also the co-efficients, and
finds that the latter consist of several series of numbers, deducible
the one from the other. The next step is to trace out the law of the
diflferent orders of series, show how to find any term, and the sum of
any number of terms, in each series, and demonstrate the mode by

208 WARREN COLBURN.

which one series, or any term of it, may be deduced from the preced-
ing order of series. Finally, the Jaws thus obtained are applied to
finding the co-efficients of any power of a binomial, and the usual
rule for finding the successive terms is given. This investigation of
series, tracing out the laws which characterize them, and the applica-
tion of those laws to the Binomial Theorem, is entirely original with
Mr. Colburn, and exhibits that acuteness of investigation, and that
analytic character of mind for which he was distinguished."

He completed his Algebra in 1828, and, as himself remarked, he
never in his life worked harder, and never accomplished more, from
day to day, than he did then; when, in addition to the sedulous and
faithful discharge of the duties of his place, as the Company's Super-
intendent, and other numerous incidental calls on his time, he was
writing that work, and carrying it through the press.

It was not in one department only, but in teaching generally, that
he sought and looked for the best methods. In his relation to the
public schools, as one of the Superintending Committee, his attention
was directed to the subjects of Reading, Grammar, and other branches.
He published a series of selections from Miss Edgeworth's stories in a
suitable form for reading exercises for the younger classes ; in the use
of which, the teachers were carefully instructed. He prefixed to each
book of the series some instructions in Grammar. So that a system
of Grammar for younger pupils was completed in connection with the
Reading Books. These instructions were addressed to the teachers,
that they, possessing their own minds with the beautiful simplicity of
the system, might communicate the same, in its plainness and clear-
ness, to their pupils. Thus, a very good notion of English Grammar
was given to children, and their early proficiency therein, by this
method, was scarcely less admirable than in arithmetic.

In the winter of 1828, his lectures, which, from the beginning, had
been entirely free and gratuitous, were given in connection with the
Middlesex Mechanic Association. He lectured upon Hydraulics, con-
structed an apparatus of considerable extent, exhibited several kinds
of water-wheels, explained the power of water and its application as
a motive agent, showed the principles of the Hydraulic Press, and
gave numerous illustrations of the flow and the force of this element.
He was invited to lecture in Boston on the same subject, and did so
before the Mechanic's Charitable Association. He was heard by
many intelligent gentlemen, who were curious to observe the practi-
cability of presenting subjects of science to the popular mind.
Although research and knowledge of his subject were satisfactorily
evinced, yet, the presence of such a proportion of scientific gentlemen,

WARREN COLBURN. 209

probably, somewhat disconcerted him ; and, the faiUire of some of his
experiments made him feel less at home than with a more popular
audience.

His lectures, in the subsequent years, at Lowell, were many of them
on the subject of Astronomy. Eclipses were lectured upon, as they
occurred ; and Comets, as they appeared. Says a gentleman of sci-
ence : " I visited him once or twice, while he was at Lowell, and, on
one occasion, assisted him in taking an observation of the sun, with
his Reflecting Circle, for the purpose of taking the latitude."

In May, 1827, he was elected a fellow of the American Academy
of Arts and Sciences. He was, for several years, a member of the
Examining Committee for Mathematics, at Harvard College.

It was the early policy of the Manufacturing Companies to select,
for Superintendents, men practically acquainted with their business.
A very different policy has subsequently prevailed, that of appointing
men of character and standing, perhaps of some general experience
in business, but without practical knowledge of mechanics or manu-
facturing, and, consequently, dependent on the Overseers, whom they
superintend, for such information in those departments as they have
occasion for. In the one case, the Superintendent looks at the work,
understands its quality, observes the Overseers, gives such instructions
as are needful, and, if anything goes wrong, he is capable of knowing
how and by whom it is to be corrected. In the other case, he calls
together his Overseers, takes their several opinions, and makes up his
mind thereupon. This is flattering to the Overseei-s, and may some-
times be turned to their advantage. The theory counts upon a gain
by securing their influence with that of the Superintendent, in the
community at large, favorable to the corporations. The arrangement
may be more satisfactory to a portion of the operatives ; but, whether
more advantageous to the Proprietors, is by no means certain. It is
like putting in the Supercargo to be master of the vessel, making him
dependent on his subordinate oflBcers for its navigation. It may do,
in fair weather and plain sailing ; but, it is doubtful whether the
voyage be quicker made, with more economy or advantage to the
owners.

Mr. Colburn was a practical mechanic, and not ignorant of manu-
. facturing. To this he added a thorough course of classical and scien-
tific education. With a view to all of these qualifications, he was
rhosen to his place. The last named may have been the occasion of
a particle of jealousy. It was said, when he died, by one who had
opportunity to know : " Few who have occasion to employ so many
persons, possess their good-will and affection so extensively as he did."

210 WARREN COLBURN.

This was true. He was much beloved by all in his employ, and most
by them that had most frequent occasions of intercourse with him.
His Overseers were strongly attached to him, and thought when he
died that his place could not be filled. Had it been thought necessary
to provide a man, in whom practical skill and science were combined
in equal degree, as in Mr. Colburn, it would not have been easy. But,
the same gentlemen Overseers, under the change of policy referred to,
finding themselves in a very different relation to the Superintendent,
and in a more agreeable and more advantageous position, it was
natural that they should approve and even prefer the new state of
things. And, equally natural was it that Mr. Colburn's very extraor-
dinary qualifications for the situation which he filled, should have
been less spoken of and less appreciated in the community at large.
Had he lived, it cannot be doubted that his abilities and acquirements
would have found no i^jconsiderable scope in his sphere as Superin-
tendent. But, brief as his time was, his services were of signal
advantage to the manufacturing interest. Several improvements of
machinery in the spinning and weaving departments, which have
proved to be of important and permanent utility, were introduced by
him. In this position, he did not disappoint any reasonable
expectation.

"The most of my intercourse with him," says Samuel Batchelder,
Esq., now of Cambridge, but then sustaining a like position with Mr.
Colburn, in the Hamilton Works, "was confined to the manage-
ment of the manufacturing business, in which he was engaged during
his residence at Lowell. His mathematical skill, and his knowledge
of the principles of mechanics, gave him important advantages for
the situation in which he was placed, and he was not less successful
in his good judgment in the general management of business." Such,
on this point, is the statement of one, than whom, probably no person
living better knows, or is more reliable.

Previous to his removal to Lowell, it does not appear that his atten-
tion had been much directed to religious investigations ; and, he was
known to have had a decided distaste for religious controversy. The
chief and absorbing religious discussion of his time, in Massachusetts,
was that between the two extreme portions of the Congregation alists,
the Trinitarian and the Unitarian, or, as they were called, the ortho-
dox and the liberal. His tendencies were to the latter. "When he
began to study, and became in love of learning, his religious theory
was, probably, little else than natural philosophy. In his Dissertation,
at Commencement, he says, of the physical sciences : " No class of
.studies has done more to dispel the sombre clouds of superstition

WARREN COLBURN. 211

•wbicli so long overshadowed the human intellect, and kept it groping
in the darkness of ignorance and error ; a darkness which sheltered
fairies, v.itches, and thousands of malignant spirits, which afflicted
and oppressed mankind ; a darkness, in which the stars directed the
destinies of men, and ruled them with resistless sway ; a darkness, in
which the Supreme Ruler of the Universe appeared onl}^ in his ter-
rors, delighting in the miseries of his creatures, selfish and sordid in
his views, capable of being appeased by vain ceremonies, and even
•with a price. The light which has beamed upon the world through
the influence of philosophy has broken the spell by which they held
the human intellect enslaved."

At the time of his removing to Lowell, there was but one congre-
gation in the place, and that worshipping in the Episcopal form ; and,
to this most of the community then resorted. In the position which
he occupied, the whole population of the village came more or less
directly within the sphere of his influence. In these circumstances
he perceived himself invested with a religious responsibility of serious
extent and importance. He felt that the weight of his character and
position must go into one scale or the other, — either for or against the
religious interests of the people ; that it was impossible for him to
wield an influence that would be neutral in this regard ; and, his in-
genuous and comprehensive mind was at once made up as to the
course which he consistently pursued. With the general reputation
of the Episcopal church he was not unacquainted, with the Prayer
Book he soon made himself familiar. In the discussions of his time,
much use was made of the mysteries objected against the Trinitarian
system, and he had himself felt the force of this popular argument.
But, looking into the subject with his accustomed penetration, he soon
perceived, and readily acknowledged, that no system of Theology, nor
even of Philosophy, is free from mystery ; and, that, in this respect,
neither hypothesis had any advantage. And, in view of the authority
of a Divine Inspiration, he determined to make the Bible the end of
controversy, and to receive its revelations and its mysteries on the tes-
timony of the sacred word.

Never having been baptized, his mind was exercised with character-
istic ingenuousness and simplicity upon preparation for that solemn
sacrament. After a very serious consideration, on Whit Sunday, June
3, 182Y, he was baptized, in St. Anne's Church, publicly confessing
his faith in Christ. He soon afterwards received the Lord's Supper,
and was confirmed on the first subsequent opportunity. From that
time he was a constant communicant, as he had been, and continued

OJ2 WARREN COLBURN.

to be a constant worshipper ; never having been known to leave his
chosen place of worship for the sake of attending on any other. He
filled the office of Church Warden as assiduously as if he had no
other engagement ; and, in the absence of the Rector, repeatedly eon-
ducted the worship as a lay reader. His Christian character partook
of the leading features of his mind. His religious affections were not
subject to great excitements, for his mental operations were habitually
slow and deliberate. They were strong, however, and deep, for his
mind was strong and profound. Genuine simplicity is always
amiable : when united with a vigorous and cultivated intellect, it is
truly lovely ; when found in connection with knowledge of the world
and intercourse with men, it is as admirable as it is rare. Simplicity,
under all these circumstances, was a marked and beautiful feature of
his mind, and it pervaded his religion. His heart was open to reli-
gious influences, and his feelings were direct and truthful. They were
not showy, for he was naturally reserved, even in departments wherein
he excelled. His religious character was not wavering, because, hav-
ing exercised his strong understanding in the simplicity of his heart,
he acted conscientiously and consistently. His religion inclined to tho
cheerful, because the temperament of his mind was habitually so.
The kindness of his natural disposition became benevolence in his
religion, and induced him, in his quiet and unobtrusive way, " to set
forward the salvation of all men " within his sphere of influence.

His cheerfulness in the social circle, — how he loved and enjoyed his
select neighbors and friends in the familiar intercourse of evening
recreations and readings at his own house, at theirs, will be remem-
bered afresh by the yet living, who participated therein.

It was observed by his intimate friends that the labors and cares of
1833 were not sustained with quite his usual degree of physical vigor
and elasticity. He was advised to take some relaxation, which he
could scarcely be said to have done during his residence in Lowell.
The summer was an inconvenient time for him to be absent, and he
did not get away until the beginning of August. He then took a
journey to New York and Philadelphia. But, his strength did not
recruit. As he returned, on his way home, he was cold at times, and,
when he alighted at his door, in the chill of the evening, from the
stage which had brought him from Boston, August 23d, he went
directly to his chamber, which he never left again. A fever, insidious
and fatal, had seized upon him, and having run through a course of
anxious fears, and trembling hopes, and assiduous attention, on the
thirteenth of September, terminated his valuable life.

WARREN COLDURN. 213

The next day there appeared, in a Lowell paper, of which the
editor was Mr. J. Sleeper, afterwards ' of Boston, the following
obituary : —

In this town, last evening, Warren Colburn, Esq., Superintendent of the Mer-
rimack Manufacturing Company, aged 40 years.

Mr. Colburn graduated at Harvard, in lS'20, and scrupulously fulfilled, through
life, all the duties incumbent on him as a man and as a Christian ; and, his death
will be severely felt, not only by his family, but by a numerous circle, to whom he
was endeared by the ties of friendship and affection. It may be truly said of him
that his mind was, intellectually and morally, of the highest grade. His labors
to advance the cause of education are well-known to the world ; and, his admira-
ble treatises on Arithmetic and Algebra are acknowledged as standard works, and
are introduced into almost all our schools and academies. Many important improve-
ments in the machinery of our manufacturing establishments are the fruits of his
scientific researches and ingenuity. Indeed, he was always devising plans to im-
prove liis fellow-eitizons in knowledge and virtue. Ilis heart was full of philan-
throphy, and his study, through life, seemed to be to do good. But, he is taken
away in the prime of his usefulness. His pilgrimage is now over, and he has
reaped the reward of the blessed.

Mr. Colburn had been a resident in Lowell for nearly ten [about nine] years;
and, always identified liimself with the interests of the inhabitants. The loss of
such a man makes a chasm in society; and, years may elapse before it will be
closed.

The following appeared in the same paper, September 16th, the

day of his interment, and is from the pen of the late Elisha Bartlett,

M. D., then a distinguished citizen of Lowell : —

" Dust to dust, and ashes to ashes," is the perpetually impending sentence of
the Creator upon his creatures. And, amid more than common gloom, is that
sentence this day uttered over the remains of the lamented Colbur.n. It is not
our purpose to enter into a history of the life, or to indulge in anything like an
elaborate consideration of the character of our departed townsman ; for, we have
neither the means nor the ability requisite to the performance of this melancholy,
but delightful duty : neither, as we well-know, can any poor words of ours lighten
the sorrow or break up the darkness which his death has shed over a bereaved
and afflicted family. But, in the privilege of friendship, we indulge the last sad
pleasure of leaving our simple memorial to the memory of one whom we knew,
and loved, and have lost.

Mr. Colburn was, in its best and broadest meaning, a great and a good man. To no
other individual, either among the dead or the living, has the cause of education
in New England been more indebted than to him. His mind was thoroughly
imbued with the best of all philanthropy, that which labors to make itself opera-
tive and practical, — which is felt not only by its possessor, but by all within the
sphere of its influence. He not only desiied the improvement and happiness of
his species, but he set himself to work out that improvement, and to place its con-
sequent happiness in their reach. He did not indulge in indolent and unproduct-
ive dreams about the perfectibility of man ; but, while he yielded to none in the
ardor with which he wished to witness this consummation, he also, which is far
better, yielded to none in zealous endeavor for its accomplishment. To judge of
a man's character with any thing like fairness, we must take into the estimate the
circumstances by which it would be probably influenced. These, in the present
case, so far as they can be so under our institutions, were untoward. Mr. Colburn
was not born amid the shades of academic bowers, and neither the smiles of the
opulent nor the patronage of the great greeted his entrance into life ; yet, he won
his way honorably to the high places of science, and sat down, a peer, among the
benefactors of his race. He was self-made, — the sole architect of his fortune and
Came.

From these qualities of the head, we turn to those better ones of the heart,
which, after all, constituted the principal charm, and the crowning excellence of

214

WARREN COLBURN.

Mr, Colburn's cliaracter. Like the habitual smile on liis countenance, he had a
serenity of soul which could lia\-« been the result only of high honor, sound prin-
ciple, and genuine piety. His moral worth, like his mental power, was quiet and
unobtrusive, and no man ever* bore his honors nioi-e meekly than he. His religion
was the fruit both of feeling and of thought, and it shed a constant and celestial
light over the " daily beauty " of his life. Rarely has it been our lot to witness
the ehments of all excellencies so harmoniously minglt d. He is taken from us in
the *' midst of his days," in the prime of his usefulness, and, as in our short-
sightedncfcs we are accustomed to say, prematurely. But, why prematurely?
How fully and how nobly has he aeeomplislied the liight st j)urposes of our earthly
existence, and although, when measured by the lapse of years, his life has been
short; it has been long, if we estimate it as we should, by its fruits and its issues.
He lived the happiest and the most enviable of all lives, — that of the Christian
Philosopher : he died the happiest and most enviable of all deaths, — that of the

KlGHTEOUS. K. B.

The friends of the late Dr. Bartlett will recognize, in the above, the
familiar and unmistakable features of his own mind and pen.

In a weekly religious paper, entitled the Observer, edited at the
time by Rev. Mr. Rand, appeared the following, as editorial.

We are not used to the work of writing eulogiums upon the dead ; but, our
feelings instinctively urge us to say something j-espeeting the man whose name is
at the head of this article.

Warren Colburn, taken all in all, was a most wonderful man. There was in
him a combination of qualities which rendered him a friend to all, and which
commanded the love of all. His was not a life of inaction. He lived to some
purpose. With a constitution little fitted to the rough and stormy scenes of life,
he set himself to work in his own appropriate sphere, and no man ever accom-
plished more. We have understood that Mr. Colburn's early life was not spent,
as we should conjecture, from his attainments, amidst all the advantages uf schools
and academies ; but, that he labored amidst great disadvantages in these respects.
He was strictly a self made man. His efforts were well directed and efficient in
respect to the improvement of the young. His Arithmetic introduced a new era
in the history of that science, and opened the way for the numerous systems
which have since been raised upon his superstructure.

His series of reading books have been also extensively adopted in all our schools,
and are well adapted to secure the interest and profit of the schools.

He was an agent of the Merrimack Manufacturing Company in this place j
which has sustained, in his death, an almost irreparable loss.

His attainments were great in all the branches of Mathematics and general
science, and the cause of education thi"ough the country owes to his influence much
of its present prosperity.

His disposition was amiable, and his hand was extended to all, without distinc-
tion, who claimed his friendship. He always appeared smiling and cheerful, and
we are assured that he scarcely ever seemed less cheerful at his own fireside than
in public.

Such was Warren Colburn, in his scientific and tocial qualities ; but, from
what we have seen and heard we should presume that his heart was impressed
with the importance of deep and fervent piety. If we are not mistaken in this,
Mr. Colburn presented a singular instance of a mind bent upon literary attainments,
and yet deeply imbued with a spirit of religion. We would that all our men of
learning were as sensible of their own mortality, and of the need of a preparation
for the future life, as he was.

But, he is gone. His remains are with us ; his immortal spirit has, we trust,
gone to expand its powers, and to make more lofty flights in a purer and holier
atmosphere. He has built his own monument, and it will stand longer than the
mementos which other men can raise to perpetuate his virtues. The breaches
which God thus makes, he alone can repair. Let us look to him in all our afflic-
tion, as he possesses the sources of consolations.

WARREN COLiiURN.

215

These articles, occasioned bj the event of his death, serve to give
expression of the prevalent feeling as pervading different portions of
the community at the time of his departure. He was interred in
Lowell ; but, his body was afterwards removed to Mount Auburn,
where a modest and durable monument was placed by his literary
friends over his grave, with a simple inscription.

There will be added a few general impressions from the reminiscences

of surviving friends, as more recently expressed.

" There are few men," says his friend, Mr. Batchelder, " who, in so short and
quiet a life, have done so much good, and rendered their name so familiar. I
remember, many years ago, on visiting, with him, a school in New Hampshire, on
the invitation of the instructors and others interested in the school, that when I
introduced him to one of the Trustees of the Institution, he manifested much sur-
prize at his youthful appearance, and asked, ' Is this Mr. Colburn, the Mathema-
tician ? ' remarking that, having heard so much of him, and of the good he had
done in the world, he expected to see a man with gray hairs and bent with age."

His friend, Mr. Sherwin, says : —

Mr. Colburn was remarkable for simplicity of manners and character, sincerity,
a high regard for truth, and an amiableness which endeared him to all his
acquaintances.

James Hay ward, Esq., says : —

Mr. Colburn was a modest unobtrusive man. I was first attracted by his scien-
tific tendencies and tastes. I then sought his further acquaintance. I was struck
with the strength and clearness of his mind, and the tendency of his inquiries to
the practical and the useful. And, I was charmed with his simplicity and direct-
ness, his perfect truthfulness and honesty of thought and purpose. He was a man
in whom there was no guile. His simplicity and directness were seen in all his
pursuits ; as well in his business as in his scientific inquiries, and his intercourse
with society. In all, he was a man in earnest. I remember that I early got these
impreasions of him, and used to embrace every convenient opportunity of being in
his society. His love of science made his society both entertaining and instruct-
ive, and the simplicity and benignity of his character made it absolutely charming.
I reckon it among the peculiar blessings of my life, that I have been permitted to
enjoy the acquaintance and friendship of such a man. The tendency of his mind
was to scientific aecaracy ; and, he exercised it in the higher subjects of philoso-
phical inquiry. His attainments in analytical mathematics were eminent ; and, it
is known that, in his leisure from business, he applied himself to the solution of
some of the most difficult problems in astronomical science. But, the tendency of
his mind was, as I have said, to the practical in knowledge. His study was to
simplify science, — to make it accessible to common minds; and, in my opinion, his
elementary books are instances of great success in this way ; especially the " First
Lessons in Arithmetic." I hold in great admiration Mr. Colburn's character as a
student in science, a practical philosopher, a man, and a Christian. These are
the impressions which he made on me ; and, the lapse of more than twenty years
has not tended to eflSice them.

James A. Treat, Esq., of Pittsfield, N. H., says : —

When I left Cambridge, 1832, 1 went into Mr. Colburn's counting-room, and
remained there until his summons came. While in his counting-room, I became
better acquainted. I there began to appreciate the good and noble qualities of his
character. There, with others, I was irresistibly drawn to love and resj)ect him.
There I learned to admire his uniform urbanity, his pleasant look, his kind word,
m giving directions or advice. Even in giving admonition, if necessary, ais kind-
ness was seen and felt.

In my mind's eye, I can now see him at his office. I can see his mild and

GIDEON F. THAYER.

Gideon F. Thayer, founder of Chauncy Hall School, Boston, —
an establishment which he planned and conducted on a scale of liber-
ality and with a degree of success seldom exemplified previously in
any private seminary founded and maintained by the efforts of an
individual unaided by any association, — was born in Watertown,
Mass., Sept. 21, 1793 ; and the circumstances of his early life are
worthy of notice, as testifying to the effectual character of the mental
foundation laid, at that day, by the Massachusetts common school sys-
tem of education, limited, as it comparatively was, in extent. To the
operation of that system, and to his own otherwise unaided self-culture,
Mr. Thayer owes all that he attained in the way of intellectual ad-
vancement. His father was a house-builder and carpenter. His grand-
parents, however, on both sides, were officers in the Revolutionary
army, — a circumstance which doubtless had its influence in the active
part which he afterwards took in the duties of the military company
of '• Rangers " formed in Boston at the beginning of the war of 1812.

Mr. Thayer's years of boyhood were passed principally in Brookline
and Boston, till the age of fourteen, when he entered a retail store, as
clerk, in which capacity he continued for six years. In 1814 he com-
menced his course of life as a teacher. His style of penmanship, for
which, when, a schoolboy, he had obtained a Franklin medal, enabled
him successfully to apply for the situation of usher in the " South
Writing School " of Boston, then under the care of Mr. Rufus Webb.

Mr. Thayer's labors in instruction were interrupted, in 1818, by a
hemorrhage at the lungs, which, though checked by the invigorating
effect of a resort to New Orleans and a horseback journey home, was
followed by white swelling in the knee, which suspended his teaching for
a year longer. In 1820 he was able to resume his vocation, but iu a
private school, on a very limited scale. His characteristic energy and
devoted attention to his school, however, soon brought him a large
increase of pupils ; and, in 1828, the confidence felt in his success was
such as to enable him to command, on credit, the means of purchasing
the eligible site in Chauncy Plage (now Chauncy Street), on which,

GIDEON F. THAYER.

219

with the aid of a similar pecuniary foundation, his school edifice was
erected.

The plan of the building was on a liberal scale of accommodation
for all educational purposes, and embraced, in addition to the improve-
ments then recently exemplified in some European school structures,
several original features conducive to the physical and moral as well
as intellectual purposes of education. The principle of the division
of labor was carried to a much greater extent than in any private
school at that time existing in our New England cities. The various
branches of education usually pursued in preparation either for com-
mercial or collegiate life, were distributed among a numerous corps of
accomplished teachers; the principal reserving to his own more imme-
diate care the departments of penmanship, orthography, and elocution,
together with that of moral instruction, to which a regular daily atten-
tion was given, in conjunction with the subjects of practical habits and
personal manners. On these latter points Mr. T. possesses a remark-
able talent for commanding and holding the attention of a youthful
audience. His brief addresses on such themes always enkindled a
warmth of sympathy amounting to enthusiasm. His pupils were ever
aware that he had at heart their moral progress much more than
merely their intellectual advancement. They daily heard from his
lips the noblest sentiments ; and the most apposite examples of every
virtue were introduced in striking instances from history and biogra-
phy and daily occurrences in actual life.

The scale on which Mr. Thayer commenced Chauncy Hall School
seemed, at the time, to some minds, too broad and too high to be sus-
tained by an unaided individual; and not a few ventured to prophesy
the failure of an experiment so bold. But its projector was aware of
the force of that impulse which, at the time, actuated the general mind
of New England, and of Boston in particular, on the whole subject of
education, and on improved methods of instruction. With character-
istic energy and enterprise, and indefatigable perseverance, he labored
at his chosen work ; and every year added its testimony to his ample
success, till, yielding to the requirements of health, he withdrew to
less exhausting pursuits at the close of the year 1855. The school,
however, continues to flourish on its original plan, and, under the
direction of Mr. Thomas Gushing, himself formerly its pupil, realizes
all the liberal views of its founder.

Mr. Thayer's success in life is due to a strong and well-founded
self-confidence, and to a tireless activity and energy — an inborn
necessity for doing — which were abundantly shown in his early
efforts at self-improvement, and which have ever since made him an

220 GIDEON F. THAYER.

efficient helper in many enterprises of benevolence and mental and
moral improvement, other than his profession. During the fifty-five
years while Mr. Thayer has been earning his living in Boston, his
interest in human progress has been unflagging, and his cooperation
in all eflforts for its promotion, whether in the city or in the suburban
towns, where he has in part resided, constant and hearty.

While yet a youth, he was a member of a literary association called
»*The Belles-Lettres Club," which met weekly to read original com-
positions; was afterward, from 1825 to 1835, a member of the Bos-
ton Debating Society; and at still later periods belonged to " reading
circles" together with such men as Dr. W. E. Channing, Dr. FoUen,
Dr. Tuckerman, Mr. Timothy Walker, &c. While a clerk he pursued
a course of study in French, under M. Sales, in hours saved from
business. After becoming an usher in the South Writing School, he
continued, outside of school hours, to assist his former employer; and
at the same time taught an evening school for the instruction of young
men and apprentices in reading, writing, and arithmetic.

He early enlisted in the Sunday-school enterprise, was a teacher in
Dr. Channing's school (now Dr. Gannett's), afterwards superintend-
ent of that of Dr. Pierce's church at Brookline, and again in Dr.
Lunt's at Quincy. The latter school, indeed, had been wholly discon-
tinued, but under Mr. Thayer's vigorous ministrations grew to a total
number of two hundred and twenty persons within a period of two
years. He was for some time an agent of the Boston S. S. Society,
and in that capacity visited many schools and delivered many addresses
in various parts of New England ; and since leaving the office he has
still, from time to time, performed much of the same duty.

While residing in Quincy, Mr. Thayer lectured and labored with
effect for the establishment of the high school there ; was actual editor
of a weekly paper, the Quincy Patriot, devoted to literature and
material and mental improvement ; was president of the lyceum for
one year, during which was furnished the longest and best course of
lectures ever enjoyed in Quincy; and was — as, indeed, elsewhere at
various times — member of the business committee of his parish.

lie was one of the founders of the American Institute of Instruc-
tion, of the American Association for the Advancement of Education,
of the Norfolk County Teachers' Association, — one of the earliest
bodies of its class, — and of the Massachusetts State Teachers' Asso-
ciation. He has attended most of the meetings of these bodies, and
has held distinguished official positions in them. He was one of the
editors of the Massachusetts Teacher for 1848 ; was many years chair-
man of the managers of the Boston Dispensary ; was one of a commit-

GIDEON F. THAYER.

221

tee for raising a fund for the Washingtonian Total Abstinence Society,
which gathered five thousand dollars in one season ; was six years a
member of the Common Council of Boston, and, while such, a member
of the Committee on Public Instruction, a visitor of the Boston Luna-
tic Hospital, one of the originators of the movement for establishing
the Bot^ton Puitlic Library, and assisted in forming the Association of
Franklin Medal Scholars.

Mr. Thayer's liberality of views and strong practical common sense
have been markedly shown in his ready appreciation of improvements,
and in his independence of personal action. Only a little later than
1820, he had, in connection with his school, some apparatus for phys-
ical exercise ; and was then accustomed to take his pupils, at recess,
to Boston Common, for open-air exercise and practice. He was con-
nected with the gymnastic school which was under the care of Dr. C.
Follen, and afterwards of Dr. Francis Lieber ; and was early a quiet
cooperator with Mr. Josiah Holbrook in introducing into schools a
department of natural science.

To the younger members of his former profession Mr. Thayer has
furnished a noble example of zeal and industry, and of entire devot-
edness to the daily duties of a teacher's life, in all the relations of
promptness, punctuality, vigilance, regularity, and order; of strictness
of requirement, yet generous allowance for the imperfections of child-
hood and youth, a warm sympathy with juvenile feelings, and unfail-
ing readiness to aid the recovery of the erring to duty and to happi-
ness. He has left also to those who are entering on the teacher's life
the benefit of his example, in the earnestness with which he has
engaged in all social and civil duties as a member of the community,
never allowing himself to plead his school engagements as an excuse
for omitting those of any just claim on his attention and efiective
action as a man, as a neighbor, or a citizen.

Every moment of school hours was sacredly devoted to its particu-
lar use ; and hours of gratuitous attention were sedulously given to the
voluntary discharge of extra duties of all sorts connected with the
daily work of teaching. Yet so economically was every moment of
the day planned and distributed, that no call of public or private duty
seemed ever to be neglected. By method rigorously exact, and a
military promptitude of habit and action, he was enabled to meet the
demands of a multitude of professional and extra-professional duties
connected with ofiicial stations in city life and beneficent associations
in town and country. An active intermingling with society, and a
liberal stake in the business of life, he deemed an aid, not a hindrance,
to the true success of a teacher as an educator of men.

222 GIDEON F. THAYER.

To one who, for successive years, enjoyed daily opportunity of
observing Mr. Thayer's operations in the school-room, we are indebted
for the following testimony :

" One could not be long within the sphere of his influence, as an
instructor, without being fully convinced that he had fallen into the
niche for which nature had designed him ; that he was a master in
every sense of the word. His dignified person and manners bore the
seal of authority legibly impressed upon them ; while his exact and
thorough knowledge of whatever he undertook to teach was immedi-
ately apparent in his mode of communicating it. It was evident that,
regarding the trust reposed in him as an important one, he was en-
deavoring to fill it with conscientiousness, earnestness, and efficiency \
that he knew no half measures in his share of the work of instruction,
and would be satisfied with none on the part of his pupils.

" In his ideas of his duty as a teacher Mr. Thayer was eminently
conscientious. In taking charge of another's child, he felt, in its full
force, what is made the legal obligation of the public teacher, to con-
sider himself in loco parentis. Everything was to be done by him
that could conduce to the improvement of the mind, heart, health, or
manners of the precious charge. He did not consider his duty done
by going through any formal routine of lessons or hours, but would
labor in season and out of season ; ever trying some new expedient to
reach conscience or intellect, hoping against hope, and dismayed by no
amount of dulness or unappreciating indifference.

" Personal comfort, or the enjoyment of time that might fairly be
considered his own, were never thought of by him, when, by the sac-
rifice of them, there was a possibility of improving those under his
charge. Years of time have been devoted by him in extra and self-
imposed labor which could never have been expected of him. But
such labor was not unrewarded. Impressions were often produced
that could hardly have been looked for ; and the animus of the
teacher came to be understood even by the reckless and negligent.
Whatever his requisitions or inflictions, his pupils felt that he was
conscientiously acting for their benefit ; and in maturer years, if not
at the time, have acknowledged their obligations. Independent of
any literary improvement, a valuable lesson was thus taught them,
that was never forgotten.

" Earnestness was eminently characteristic of Mr. Thayer as a
teacher. Regarding his duty as highly important, he undertook . the
discharge of it with all his might. Holding nothing unimportant in
a work that is made up of particulars, a chain of many links, he
would not allow one of them to pass from his hand unskilfully forged,

GIDEON F. THAYER.

223

or carelessly polished and united. He was equally alive to the neces-
sity of correcting an error or impressmg a truth the ten thousandth
time as the first, and would use the same liveliness of manner and
clearness of illustration to impress it on the young mind. The writer
can distinctly remember, after the lapse of thirty years, when various
points of propriety and correctness were indelibly impressed upon his
mind. Education, under Mr. Thayer's direction, was no sleepy pro-
cess, no mere matter of books, or routine of question and answer, but
something that called out the whole man, warm, fresh, and glowing
with his subject. Possessed of much native eloquence and power of
illustration and persuasion, Mr. Thayer used them freelj'', and often
successfully, to warn, guide, and encourage ; and his brief but im-
pressive addresses have planted much good seed in the minds and
hearts of his hearers. Mean, selfish, and unmanly actions received a
withering condemnation from his lips, and the doers of them were
glad to hide their abashed heads ; while no one could better portray
the honest, the just, the magnanimous in conduct, and confirm his
hearers in the practice of them. Mr. Thayer had the qualities that
go to make the orator or the advocate, and would, no doubt, have
succeeded as well at the bar, or in the pulpit, as in the school-room.
Believing that important ends were to be attained, he threw himself
into his work with an ardor that increased rather than diminished
with increasing years and experience, — not the mere sudden and
quickly-spent fire of the novice, but the steady, undying warmth of
the veteran.

" Exactness and thoroughness were original qualities of his mind,
and were fully brought into play in the exercise of his profession.
Whatever he knew, he wholly knew, and tried to impart in all its
cntireness. In his favorite department of elocution^ he had early
made the orthoepy of the English language his special study, and had
fixed in his mind the best authorized pronunciation of every word in
it ; at least, during a long intimacy, the writer never knew him at a
loss to decide promptly and correctly when appealed to in regard to
any doubtful or disputed point. The characteristics and habits of
mind which will enable any one to do this, will be appreciated by
those to whom the troublesome subject of English pronunciation is
ever new, and whose minds are never fully settled in regard to it.
His mind held, with a vice-like tenacity, anything connected with the
subject, and reproduced it at the shortest notice. As a consequence,
his teaching in this or any other branch that he undertook was
marked by an unusual degree of promptness and accuracy. If there
was a best way^ he was master of it, and wished his pupils to be also;

226 GIDEON F. THAYER.

His lectui-es before the Institute — the first on ^^ The Spelling of
Words, and a Rational Method of Teaching their Meaning,"" in
1830 ; and the last, on the •' Connection of Courtesy with School
Instruction,^ m 1840 — have been widely circulated and read, and
have had a marked influence on the opinions and practice of teachers.
So highly was the lecture on " Courtesy " esteemed by Mr. Mann,
that he printed it entire in a number of the Common School Journal,
as well a5 in pamphlet form, and of the last sent a copy to every
school in Massachusetts. Of a portion of the same lecture Mr. Bar-
nard has given a circulation of over fifty thousand copies in the form
of an educational tract, and in his publications on school architecture.
In 185G Mr, Thjayer commenced in the American Journal of Educa-
tion a series of Letters to a Young Teacher, which he has continued
in successive numbers, and proposes to continue until he has gone over
in a plain, practical way all the prmcipal topics of school-keeping.
These " Letters," when completed and collected in a volume, will be
a valuable contribution to our educational literature.

In consideration of Mr. Thayer's service to the cause of letters, the
corporation of Harvard College, in 1855, and of Brown University,
in 1854, conferred on him the honorary degree of Master of Arts.

/^:^^Ue. ^....^^

Ed. Am, Jonmal of EdiicatioiL (Boston.) 1B26_29.

228 WILLIAM RUSSELL.

Grammar School, — tlie preparatory classical seminary connected with
Yale College.

The peculiar form of illness, to which Mr. Russell is liable in cold lati-
tudes, having returned, a less sedentary mode of teaching became de-
sirable for hira ; and with a view to the benefit of such a change,
he commenced the instruction of classes in elocution, in connection
with the Theological Seminary at Audover, the University at Cam-
bridge, the Public Latin School, and Chauncy Hall School, in the city
of Boston. Soon after this change of occupation, he was invited to
take the editorial charge of the American Journal of Education, pub-
lished in Boston, first by Mr. Thomas B. Wait, in 1826, next by Mr.
S. G. Goodrich, and subsequently by Messrs. Carter & Ilendee. Mr.
Russell continued to conduct this periodical for nearly three years
from the date of its publication.

The early direction given to Mr. Russell's studies and pursuits by the
influence of Professor Jardine, led him to take a deep interest in the
general subject of modes of education, in their adaptation to the de-
velopment of mind and character. This circumstance subsequently
proved a useful preparation for the business of conducting an educa-
tional journal at a time when, as yet, no publication of that descrip-
tion existed in our own country or in England; although the light
shed on the whole subject of education by the labors of Pestalozzi,
had excited, throughout Europe and America, a fresh interest on all
the great questions involved in the various departments of physical,
intellectual, and moral culture.

The only Journals then devoted to t"he subject of education, were
those of Germany, France, and, perhaps, one or two other countries
on the continent of Europe. The necessity of important clianges in
the plan and character of education, was beginning to be deeply felt
in England. But this feeling had hitherto been expressed only in
detached suggestions from the minds of individuals, in occasional
]»amphlets, or similar forms of publication. In the United States, the
condition of matters was much the same as in England ; although, in
some instances, the degree of attention excited on the subject, was
both stronger and more definite.

Warren Colburn's invaluable contribution to the improvement of
(Klucation, in tl^e publication of his Intellectual Arithmetic, had vir-
tually introduced the spirit of Pestalozzi^s methods of instruction
into the schools of New England ; and much had been eftected by
the difiusion of liberal views on the whole subject of education, by
Mr. James G. Carter, through his numerous and able editorial articles
in the United States Literary Gazette.

WILLIAM RUSSELL.

220

Much also had been don«> toward the same results by the success-
ful exertions of Professor Walter R. Johnson, in connection with the
establishment of the Franklin Institute, in Philadelphia, and with the
introduction of the school system of Pennsylvania. Valuable aid
had been rendered, likewise, to the interests of education, by the ex-
ertions of the Rev. Mr. Gallaudet, of Hartford, for the introduction
of modes of instruction adapted to seminaries for the deaf and dumb,
but incidentally shedding a truer light on all forms of mental devel-
opment. The arduous labors of Mr. Russell, in the unassisted editorial
care of the Journal of Education, although of no pecuniary benefit
to him personally, were amply rewarded by the many invaluable re-
sults to which they led. Prominent among these were the instruc-
tion of physical education, in various forms, into American semina-
ries ; more liberal views on the subject -of female education; more
genial methods of conducting the business of early culture in prima-
ry schools ; the establishment of lyceums and other popular institu-
tions connected with the diffusion of useful knowledge ; the forma-
tion of Teachers' Associations, and the establishment of seminaries for
teachers.

The Journal met with warm encouragement throughout the Union,
and was extensively used as a vehicle of communication, both for
developing the views of the friends of education in several of the
States which were then occupied with the establishment of systems
of public instruction, and for the diffusion of improved methods of
teaching, which were then claiming general attention in New England
and other parts of our country, where the subject of education had
attained to a more mature stage of advancement. Eminent educators
and philanthropists abroad, both in England and on the continent,
gave their cordial sympathy and commendation to the design and
character of the American Journal, and contributed effectual aid to
its purposes, by liberal exchanges, and copious supplies of material,
in the shape of important public documents.

The editorial care of the Journal, though an exceedingly laborious
form of occupation, was one which was peculiarly agreeable to Mr.
Russell, from his personal tastes and habits ; and he would gladly have
continued it, could he have done so with safety. But the employ-
ment of conducting an educational periodical being necessarily, for
the most part, a gratuitous service, it could only be performed by
laboring at night after the days' occupation in teaching. Three years
of this double toil occasioned a reduction of strength which called
for a temporary cessation of exertion ; and at the request of an emi-
nent friend of education, residing in Germantown, Pennsylvania, Mr.
Russell taught, for several years, a limited class of young ladies, in that

230 WILLIAM RUSSELL.

vilJage, and, subsequently, a school of a similar description, together
uith private classes, in the city of Philadelphia.

On his return to Boston, he resumed his former line of teaching
there and at Andover; attending^ at intervals, as lecturer and in-
structor, at the spring and autumn sessions of Teachers' Institutes in
the State of Rhode Island, under the direction of the Hon. Henry
]3arnard, then State Commissioner of Schools. Mr. Russell was em-
ployed, also, for some years, in conducting the exercises of similar asso-
ciations in the State of New Hampshire ; occupying himself, during the
winter season, for the benefit of a milder climate, in teaching classes
at Pi-inceton College, and in the cities of New York and Brooklyn.
hi fulfilling these numerous engagements, he was frequently assisted
by his son, — now Rev. Francis T. Russell, of New Britian, Connecti-
cut, who, from his interest in the cause of education, still affords such
aid to the Teachers' Institutes of that State.

In 1849, at the inxntation of friends of education in New Hamp-
shire, Mr. Russell established there a seminary for teachers, which he
continued to conduct or direct, for several years. But his health inca-*
j)acitating him for the active duties of teaching, during the severe
winters of that region, he w^as induced, in the spring of 1853, to move
his Seminary to Lancaster, Massachusetts, where he now resides.

Mr. Russell commenced his seminary in Lancaster, with liberal aid
from the local friends of education there, and with the assistance of a
numerous and superior corps of instructors ; among whom were Pro-
fessor Hermann Kriisi of Switzerland, previously instructor in math-
ematics and modern languages, in the Home and Colonial Normal
Seminary of London, and now Instructor in the Massachusetts
Teachers' Institutes, — Professor William J. Whittaker of London,
subsequently Principal of the Boston School of Design, and now
similarly occupied in the city of Philadelphia, — Mr. Dana P. Colburn,
now Principal of the Rhode Island Normal School, Providence, and
Sanborn Tenney, A. M., of Amherst College, now Instructor in the
Massachusetts Teachers' Institutes.

But the highly liberal course now adopted by the State of Massa-
chusetts, in establishing State scholarships in her colleges, for the
benefit of young men intending to devote themselves to the business
of teaching in the public high schools of the State, and in the gen-
erous encouragement given to students of both sexes in the State
Normal Schools to extend their couree of professional study, has, to a
great extent, superseded the necessity of any private establishment
for the higher professional training of teachers. Mr. Russell, therefore,
devotes, at present, but a limited portion of the year to instruction in
Lancaster. During the spring and autumn months, he continues to

WILLIAM RUSSELL. 231

attend the circuit of the Teachers' Institutes of the State, hold under
the direction of the Secretary of the Board of Education. Mr. Russell's
department in the institutes is that of lecturer and instructor in
reading and elocution. Part of the year he devotes, as formerly, to
the instruction of classes in elocution, at several of our New England
colleges and professional seminaries.

The principal services which Mr. Russell has rendered by his personal
exertions in the field of education, have been those of editorial labor,
the direction of seminaries for teachers, and the instruction of classes
at Teachers' Institutes. As a practical teacher, however, he has been
extensively engaged, as a lecturer and teacher in elocution, in semi-
naries of various grades. A number of his earlier years were spent
in the usual forms of academic supervision and instruction. His
modes of teaching, when so situated, he has developed in his course
of grammatical exercises adapted to his edition of Adams' Latin
Grammar, — in his Grammar of Composition, and in his Exercises on
Words. His methods in elocution, adapted to the successive stages
of instruction, are embodied in his series of reading manuals and
other text-books,* which have been extensively used in our schools
and colleges and professional seminaries, and have effectually con-
tributed to the advancement of a branch of education previously
much neglected.

A subject to which Mr. Russell has devoted much attention and which
he has frequently brought forward at the meetings of teachers, is one
of common interest to all who devote themselves to teachino: as a
business for hfe, — the importance of placing the occupation on the
footing of a recognized profession. After his address on this subject,
before the New Hampshire State Association of Teachers, a committee
was appointed to report upon it ; and a resolution was subsequently
passed by that body, that admission to membership in the Association
should thenceforth take place by professional examination and certifi-
cate. AVe hope that Mr. Russell, before withdrawing from the field of
active labor in education, will enjoy the satisfaction of seeing his
wishes regarding the distinct recognition of teaching as a profession,
amply fulfilled throughout our country, and the profession crowded
with practitioners, trained and qualified to the highest pitch of his
expectations.

* A list of these and his other publications we have annexed to this sketch of his profes-
sional life. It is but justice, however, to Mr. R. to state, with reference to their large apparent
number, that his works were not published for pecuniary purposes, but were mostly pre-
pared at the solicitation of his numerous classes of teachers, for their immediate use. A few
of them unexpectedly obtained a wide circulation ; but most of them have been serviceable
raUier as pioneers than otherwi.se.

MEMOIR OF HARVEY PRINDLE PEET,

PBESIDENT OF THE NEW YORK INSTITUTION FOR TIIB DEAF AND DUMB.

Harvey" Prindle Peet was born in the little town of Bethleni,
Litchfield Co., Conn., November 19, 1794. Bethlem is one of the
smallest and roughest towns in the state, but has been remarkably
favored in the successive ministrations of two great lights of the
church, the Rev. Joseph Bellamy, D. D., and Rev. Azel Backus, D. D.,
both eminent as theologians, as preachers, and as teachers of youth.
Dr. Backus, afterward the first president of Hamilton College, con-
ducted in this town a family school of high character, which attracted
to Bethlem several families of rare intelligence and refinement.
Under such influences, the intellectual and religious tone of the
society in which the earliest years of the subject of this sketch were
passed, was eminently such as to favor the acquisition of that force of
character, amenity of manners, and strength of religious feeling for
which Dr. Peet has ever been distinguished ; while at the same time,
born a farmer's son, and growing up with healthful alternations of
study, labor and free recreation on the rugged and picturesque hills of
Litchfield County, he acquired that well developed frame, freedom
of movement, physical hardihood, and practical tact that have
eminently fitted him for the exhausting work of a teacher of the
deaf and dumb.

His early advantages of education were few. Working on a farm
in the summer, and attending a district school in the winter, and fond
of reading at all seasons, like many other New England boys who
have worked their own way to education, and in the rough process
acquired the power of working their way to subsequent distinction,
he began at the early age of sixteen to teach a district school. This
employment he continued during five winters, till at the age of twen-
ty-one, he had established a character for ability in his profession,
which procured him the situation of teacher of English studies in
schools of a higher class, — at first, in that of Dr. Backus already
mentioned, in his native town, and afterward in that of Rev. Daniel
Parker, in Sharon, Conn. He now saw prospects of higher useful-
ness opening before him, to the realization of which the advantages
of a college education would be important. In the school of Dr.
Backus he began his Latin grammar at the same time that he taught

I

I

/^ ^ (pj^

~^

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. 233

a class in English studies. After a delay, chiefly occasioned by want
of means, he went, in the fall of 1816, to Andover, and fitted for col-
lege in Phillip's Academy, under the care of John Adams, LL. D.,*
father of Rev. William Adams, D. D., of New York.

As an illustration of the early difficulties that young Peet manfully
met and overcame in his pursuit of a liberal education, we mention
that, at Andover, he earned a portion of his support by gardening in
summer, and sawing wood in winter.

Mr. Peet entered the time honored walls of Yale in 1818, and
graduated in 1822, taking rank with the first ten in his class. He
had made a public profession of faith in Christ some years before,
and his original purpose was to devote himself to the work of the
christian ministry, but an invitation to engage as an instructor of the
deaf and dumb in the American Asylum at Hartford, gave him an
opportunity of discovering his special fitness for this then new profes-
sion. Thus began that career which has proved so honorable to
himself, and so beneficial to thai afflicted portion of the human family
m whose service his life has been spent.

The early success and reputation of the American Asylum, which
made it, thirty years ago, in popular estimation, the model institution
of its kind, was mainly due to the careful and felicitous choice of its
early teachers. Mr. Pectus associates at Hartford were all able and
most of them distinguished men. When we find that, among such
teachers as his seniors in the profession, Thomas H. Gallaudet, Laurent
Clerc, William C. Woodbridge, Lewis Weld, and William W. Turner,
Mr. Peet was early distinguished in all the qualifications of an efficient
teacher of the deaf and dumb, we are prepared for the subsequent
eminence he attained. Within two years after he joined the Asylum,
he was selected as its steward, an office giving him the sole control of
the household department, and of the pupils out of school hours.
The duties of this post were superadded to those of the daily instruc-
tion of a class, either alone sufficient to occupy the energies of an
ordinary man. Shortly before assuming the duties of steward, he
had married his first wife, Miss Margaret Maria Lewis, daughter of
Rev. Isaac Lewis, D. D., an estimable, accoiuplished and pious woman,
who proved in every sense a helpmeet for him.

In the year 1830, the Directors of the New York Institution for
the Deaf and Dumb, the second American school of its kind in priority
of date, — which had been for years losing ground in public estimation,
were awakened to the importance of placing their school on higher
ground. Seeking for a man whose weight of character, acquaintance

• This worthy man is still living at Jacksonville, III., at the advanced age of SO.

234 HARVEY PRINDLE PEET.

with the most successful methods of instruction and tried efficiency as
a teacher and as an executive officer, would invite confidence in ad-
vance, and justify it by the results ; who could introduce improved
methods of instruction, in the school-rooms, and at the same time,
order and efficiency in all departments of the institution, their atten-
tion was fortunately directed to Mr. Peet, who, almost alone in his
profession, had established a reputation for equal and eminent effi-
ciency as a teacher and as the superintendent of an asylum. The
offices of principal teacher and superintendent had been separated at
the New York Institution, much to the disadvantage of the institution.
The title of principal, uniting the two offices, was now tendered to,
and accepted by Mr. Peet. lie held likewise the office of secretary
of the Board of Directors, till he became its president fourteen years
later. The new head of the institution thus had immediate control
of all departments of the establishment, with a seat in the Board of
direction itself. While such an arrangement increases the labors and
responsibilities of the principal, it also makes success more fully de-
pendent on the qualities and personal exertions of that officer, and,
where the man is equal to his task will secure higher results by secur-
ing unity of will in all departments of the establishment.

Mr. Peet, entering on his new duties in New York, on the first
of February, 1831, found, in the task before him, abundant need of
all his energies and resources. Order and comfort in the household,
discipHne and diligence among the pupils, and interest and method in
the school-room, had to take the place of confusion, negligence,
frequent insubordination, and imperfect methods of instruction. The
labors which Mr. Peet imposed upon himself at that period were
multitudinous and herculean. He practically inculcated that all
the inmates of the institution formed but one great family, and him-
self as its head, taking with his wife and children his meals with
the pupils, rose to ask in the visible language of the deaf and dumb,
a blessing, and return thanks at every meal. lie ever gave prompt
and paternal attention to the complaints and little petitions of his
pupils, and devoted for the first few weeks, a large share of his person-
al attention to inculcating and enforcing habits of order and neat-
ness, lie conducted, for the first year or two, without assistance, as
he has ever since continued to do in his turn, the religious exercises
with which the school is opened each morning and closed each
evening. On Sundays, he delivered two religious lectures in signs,
each prepared with as much care as many clergymen bestow on their
sermons, and delivered with the impressive manner, lucid illustrations,
and perspicuous pantomime for which he was so eminent. He gave
his personal attention to the school-rcom arrangements of all the

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. , 235

classes, and to preparing lessons for the younger classes. lie kept the
accounts and conducted the correspondence of the institution, and
attended the meetings of its Directors. He planned numerous im-
provements in the details of every department of the establishment,
down to dividing the classes by screens, painting the floors, and
marking the linen, — and superintended their execution. And in
addition to all this amount of labor, enough to task the full energies
of most men, he taught with his accustomed eminent ability a class
durinc: the regular school hours.

Those who were then members of the institution still retain a vivid
recollection of the wonderful powers of command which Mr. Peet dis-
played over the male pupils, many of them stout young men, grown
up wild before coming to school, habitually turbulent, and prejudiced
in advance against the new principal. Equally vivid is their recollec-
tion of the lucid and forcible manner, strongly in contrast with
the style of the former teachers, in which he was wont to deliver
in pantomime a religious lecture or a moral exhortation, or explain a
scripture lesson. Where some other teachers were only understood
by a particular effort of attention, the signs of Mr. Peet were so clear
and impressive, even to those not much conversant with the language
of the deaf and dumb, that they could have imagined themselves
actual spectatoi-s of the events he related, and in his gestures, and the
play of his features, traced all the thoughts and emotions of the actor.

The following, preserved by one of his assistants, as the first
Sabbath lecture delivered by Mr. Peet in the New York Institution,
(February 6, 1831,) may serve as a specimen of the outlines or skel-
etons of these lectures, which were written out on the large slates
at one side of the room, fitted up as a temporary chapel ;* the object
of preparing and writing out these skeletons being in part to aid the
lecturer, and in part to make the lecture an occasion of improvement
for the whole school in written language, as well as in moral and
religious knowledge. But no words would give an adequate idea of
the spirit and power with which these written outlines were explained
and illustrated in pantomime. What appeared on paper a more
skeleton, under the hand of the teacher started to life, and swelled
out in full, natural and graceful proportions.

"Matthew, 19 : 14. But Jesus said, suffer little children to come
unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

*' The kingdom of heaven is that kingdom of which Christ is king.
All belong to it, whether in heaven or on earth, who love and obey hira.

* There was no room fitted up as a chapel in the New York Institution till Mr. Peet took
eharjfe of it.

236 HARVEY PRINDLE PEET.

All these enjoy his present favor, and they will enjoy eternal glory
with him.

This is the kingdom to which childr':a who seek the V>lessings of
Christ belonnr.

They belong to it because they are united to it.

1st, In their feelings, 2d, in their services, 3d, in their enjoyments,
4th, in their prospects."

Reflections.

" 1. Children who indulge in wicked feelings do not belong to the
kingdom of heaven.

2. Children should be kind and affectionate to others, and try
to lead their companions to Christ.

3. Children should not seek their happiness in this world, for they
can not obtain it.

4. They who are humble and pious will go to heaven when they
die, and be happy forever.

5. If you are impenitent, and do not seek the favor of Christ, you
can not be admitted into heaven."

In delivering a lecture like the above, to a congregation of deaf
mutes, for most of whom, signs are far more clear and impressive than
words, and many of whom are in so rude a state of ignorance
that they have never distinctly contemplated many of the ideas
which seem simple and elementary to those who hear and speak, it is
necessary for the teacher, at almost every word on his slate, to go back
to the simplest elements of thought, to define, analyze and illustrate ;
to adduce fomiliar examples, and prefer always the concrete to the
abstract. In this art of adapting his explanations and illustrations to
the comprehension of intellects as yet very imperfectly developed, as
in other branches of his profession, Mr. Peet was eminent.

The effect of Mr. Peet's labors was soon evinced in a marked
improvement in every department of the institution, which, from that
day to this, has been steadily gaining in reputation and usefulness.
In the domestic department, he was well seconded by his excellent
wife, and by her devoted friend, Miss Martha Dudley. In the de-
partment of instruction, he had the able assistance of Mr. Leon
Vaysse, who had been invited a few months previously from the
institution of Paris, to which he returned three or four years later.*
AVith this exception, Mr. Peet had for some time, to labor alone.
The old teachers left within a year or two, and the selection of new
ones was a difficult task, for it is not every clever and well educated

• Mr. Vaysse is senior professor and ex-officio, second Director, (vice-principal.) of the insti-
tution of Paris.

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. 23 Y

Toung man who is found, on trial, to possess the mental and physical
adaptation, necessary to success in the instruction of the deaf and
dumb. But in making the selection, Mr. Feet displayed his accus-
tomed tact, and met with his wonted success. Within a few years,
the institution could boast of a corps of teachers hardly to be rivaled
for zeal, talent, and special adaptation to their profession by those of
any similar institution in the world. ^

In proportion as Mr. Peet succeeded in training up an efficient
corps of teachers, his labors were lightened. Each teacher, as he
acquired sufficient skill and readiness in pantomime, conducted the
religious exercises in turn, and took charge of the pupils out of
school in turn. And after the first three or four years, the principal
M'as relieved from teaching a class personally, to enable him to super-
intend more at ease the general course of instruction, and the gener-
al affairs of the institution. At a much later day, however, he volun-
tarily assumed the instruction of the highest class for several terms, in
a temporary scarcity of experienced teachers.

Mr. Peet was soon called to experience a bereavement of the
heaviest kind. His amiable, intelligent and accomplished wife, for
seven years, had added to the cares of a young family, the duties of
matron at the American Asylum, and on removing to New York,
continued to devote herself to the general oversight of the female
pupils, and of the domestic department, though relieved by her friend,
Miss Dudley, of much of the actual labor. There is reason to fear
that her warm sympathy with the efibrts of her husband to elevate, in
every sense, the institution with whose interests and success he had
identified himself, led to greater exertions in her own department than
her feeble frame could support. A constitutional tendency to con-
sumption became developed in the year following their removal to
New York, and soon assumed that character of beautiful yet hopeless
decline, so familiar to thousands whose dearest connections have
traveled this gentle declivity to the grave. Removed to her na-
tive air, in the vain hope of relief, she died at Hartford, on the
23d of September, 1832, leaving three little sons, — an infant daugh-
ter having been taken to heaven before her. Those who watched by
her death-bed, remember with deep and solemn interest, that in the
last moments of life, after the power of speech had failed, the dying
one was able to spell distinctly the word mother with her weak,
emaciated fingers. Did she mean to recall to her weeping sister her
promise to be a mother to the babe left motherless ; or to convey that
the sainted spirit of her own mother, who had departed six years
before her, in the triumphs of fixith, was hovering to welcome her

238 HARVEY PRINDLE PEET.

on the confines of tlie spirit Lmd ? In the words of Lydia Hiintly
Sigourney, whose httle poem " The Last Word of the Dying '' com-
memorates this touching incident :

"We toil to break the seal with fruitless pain,
Time's fellowship is riven, earth's question is in vain.

But in view of this and otlier instances in which dying persons
have been able ^ make intelHgible communications by the aid of the
manual alphabet, after the power of speech has failed, we would sug-
gest that a familiarity with that alphabet may be of priceless value
in many exigences easy to be conceived, but impossble to predict.

Three years after, Mr. Peet formed a second connection, by marriage,
•with Miss Sarah Ann Smith, daughter of Matson Smith, M. D., whose
vpife w^as a lineal descendant of the first Mather's of New England.

As soon as the success of the institution, under its new head, had
become such as to invite public confidence, successful application was
made to the legislature of the state for an increase of pupils and ap-
propriations; and there was at the same time an increase of those
pupils from families of better circumstances, who are attracted by the
reputation of a school. The New York Institution became, within a
few years, the largest on this side of the Atlantic; and, gaining slowly
but surely, during a quarter of a century, in the confidence of the
public and of the legislature, it has recently overtaken even the insti-
tution of London, long the largest in the w^orld.

Mr. Peet did not confine himself to exhibiting such marked results
in his school as should challenge investigation and inspire confidence.
Feeling it his duty to use every means to secure the opportunity of a
good education to all the deaf and dumb children of the state, he la-
bored, by his annual reports and other publications, to diffuse correct
information, and keep alive an interest in the cause of these unfor-
tunate children. Almost every year he visited Albany, to urge the
claims of his institution on the legislature ; and on such occasions,
his tact and knowledge of the world, not less than his distinguished
reputation, gave him much personal influence among the members of
the legislature. It was customary, when an application on the part
of the deaf and dumb was before the house, to exhibit the attain-
ments of a few of the pupils by special invitation, in the legislative
hall itself ; a scene always of great interest to the members, and
which never failed to convince the most incredulous of the benefits of
instructing the deaf and dumb. On one occasion, in order to awaken
in remote parts of the state an interest which might (and did) result
in sending to school several promising deaf-mutes, hitherto kept in
heathen ignorance by the apathy or want of information of their

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. 239

friends, Mr. Peet traveled with a deputation of his teachers and pu-
pils from the Hudson river to Buffalo, and Niagara, holding exhibi-
tions at the principal places on the route. A lively and graphic re-
port of this tour is annexed to the twenty-sixth Annual Report of the
institution, from which we make an extract, bearing on a question
that has been raised by some, as to the propriety of public exhibitions
of the pupils of such an institution.

" From the above brief sketch, it will be seen that we held exhibi-
tions in seventeen of the principal cities and villages west of Albany,
in five places repeating our exhibitions at the urgent request of the
citizens. The audiences assembled were estimated at from two hun-
dred to two thousand. Probably in all from ten to fifteen thousand
persons, many of them among the best educated and influential
citizens of the state, have had the opportunity, through this excur-
sion, of acquiring correct notions on the subject of the instruction of
the deaf and dumb, and of witnessing, many of them for the first
time, practical illustrations of the success attained under our system.

Many thousands besides, who could not personally attend, have
had their attention awakened to the subject, and have acquired some
degree of correct information, through the notices of our exhibitions^
published, in the papers of the various places we visited. We have
reason to believe that the results have been highly beneficial, and that
the large accession of promising pupils to the institution, within a few
weeks after our tour, is, in part attributable to the interest and atten-
tion which we were the means of awakening.

The obstacles which the friends of deaf-mute education have to
encounter, are, partly, the prejudices of many, formed from occasional
instances of partial failure in instructing deaf-mutes under unfavora-
ble circumstances, partly the incredulity of others, who refuse to be-
lieve, upon report, facts as contrary to their own previous experience
as is the congelation of water, or the lengthened day and night of po-
lar regions to that of an inhabitant of the equator ; and partly, the
indifference with which the great bulk of mankind i-egard matters
which no peculiar circumstances have pressed upon their personal no-
tice.

There are thousands who regard the deaf and dumb with some
degree of compassion, and hear of the efforts made in their behalf
with cold approbation, but the subject has never taken hold of their
feelings. They hear of deaf-mute children in the families of their ac-
quaintances, perhaps they meet them ; they advise their being sent
to the institution ; but the advice is too coldly given to turn the
scale, when, as is too often the case, there exists disinclination on the

240 HARVEY PRINDLE PEET.

part of the parent or guardian. If we could infuse, into the mass of
our benevolent and educated men, a more heartfelt interest in this
subject, — if we could prompt each to warmer and more earnest efforts
in those cases that may come to his knowledge, — if finally, the pastor
or magistrate, or professional man, in whose neighborhood there may
be a deaf-mute growing up in ignorance, and in danger of being left
for life without the pale of social communion, and of christian knowl-
edge, could be fully impressed with the momentous consequences at
stake, and fully apprised of the only and easy means of escape, then
we should have less cause to complain that parents and guardians, of-
ten uneducated themselves, take too little thought for the education
of their deaf and dumb children.

In this point of view, we trust our excursion has, in many places,
sow^n the seed which may hereafter spring up and ripen to a gladden-
ing harvest. Many men, now wielding, or destined to wield an im-
portant influence, attended our exhibitions. In two or three places
the opportunities of this kind were peculiarly favorable. In Auburn,
for instance, the students of the Theological Seminary were present
at our lecture and exercises. These young men are destined to go
forth into the various cities and towns of the state, to exert a high
moral and intellectual influence, and ex-officio, to take the lead in
benevolent undertakings. That this body of men should be correctly
informed of the extent to which the instruction of the deaf and dumb
is practicable ; that they should be warned against the blind enthusi-
asm that, aiming at too much, fails of accomplishing the greatest
practical good, and that their feelings should be interested in view of
the striking intellectual, moral and religious contrast between the edu-
cated and the uneducated deaf mute, is a great point gained, and can
hardly be too highly appreciated."

When Dr. Peet, (we find it easier to speak of him by that now
familiar title, though the degree of LL. D., conferred on him by the
regents of the university of New York, is of somewhat later date than
the period we are now speaking of,) had been able to collect around
him such a corps of well trained teachers that his daily attention to
the routine of instruction was no longer required, he turned his atten-
tion to the preparation of a course of instruction, or a series of lan-
guage lessons, adapted to the peculiar circumstances of a class of
deaf-mutes, — then a very serious want. Several attempts, under the
spur of urgent necessity, had indeed been made to provide such les-
sons ; and in two or three instances, they had been printed to save
copying with a pen ; but these little books were of a character un-
satisfactory ei'QU to their authors ; and, such as they were, copies were

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. 241

no longer to be procured in sufficient numbers for a school. Dr.
Poet, therefore, finding nothing lie could use, and little even to im-
prove upon, beyond some hints in the French work of Bebian, and
the manuscript lessons previously used in his own school, was obliged
to go back to the first principles of the art; and following these to
their logical results in the light of his long experience, and intimate
acquaintance with the peculiarities of the deaf and dumb, he produced
a course of lessons on a plan in many respects entirely new. The
first fruit of his labors, after being tested for a few months in his own
school, was published in the spring of 1844, with the title of, "A Vo-
cabulary and Elementary Lessons for the Deaf and Dumb." It met,
(says Dr. Peet in the preface to the second edition,) with " favor and
success beyond the author's hopes," being received with a satisfaction
amounting in some cases to enthusiasm. The first edition being ex-
hausted much sooner than was anticipated, it was revised with great
care, and under the title of " Elementary Lessons, being a course of
instruction for the Deaf and Dumb, Part First," has gone through
two or three editions, and is still the only text-book in general use
for the younger classes in the American Institutions for the Deaf and
Dumb. Orders have also been received for copies to be used in British
schools ; and missionaries whose task, like that of the teacher of deaf-
mutes, is to teach the first rudiments of the English language to in-
tellects but imperfectly developed, have found Dr. Peet's Elementary
Lessons a very suitable text-book for that purpose.

The success of the First Part encouraged the author to proceed with
his undertaking of supplying that total want of acceptable elementary
books. which had so seriously increased the labors of teachers of the
deaf and dumb. A Second Part was published in 1845, a little
volume of Scripture Lessons in 1846, the new edition of the First Part,
already mentioned, the same year, and finally a new Second Part, by
which the Second Part published in 1845 became the Third Part, ap-
peared in 1849. A carefully revised edition of Dr. Peet's Scripture
Lessons appeared in the latter year, and being equally well adapted
to the use of children who hear, besides the edition for the use of the
deaf and dumb, a large edition was put in general circulation by the
American Tract Society.

The " Course of Instruction," as far as prepared, thus consists of
four volumes, of which the Elementary Lessons and the Scripture
Lessons have been received with the most general approbation. Ex-
perience has shown that the arrangement of the Second and Third
Parts is susceptible of improvement, and if Dr. Peet's life and health
are spared, it is understood that he has in view to revise both, and

242

HARVEY PRINDLE FEET.

perhaps, to add a work, long the great desideratum in the instruction
of the deaf and dumb, a Methodical Vocabulary, in two parts, the
First Part embracing the words of our language, in an ideological or-
der, so explained and illustrated, that the deaf-mute student once
made familiar with the principle of classification, can find in it the
word he needs to express a given idea; while the Second Part, in the
customary alphabetical order, by means of simple definitions and illus-
trations, by cuts where practicable, and by references to the First Part,
shall more readily enable a deaf-mute to discover the meaning of a
Avord than he generally can by the definitions in our common English
dictionaries. Such a work would render to a deaf-mute student the
same aid both in reading and composing, that the English student
finds in his double lexicons of Latin, or whatever other language he
has in hand. For want of such a work, a deaf-mute, for whom the
language of his countrymen is always a foreign language, the lan-
guage of signs being his vernacular, can only obtain a word he needs
to express a given idea by application to a living teacher ; and the
definitions in our dictionaries are seldom well adapted to his use.
But great as would be the advantages of such a work, the labor of
preparing it would evidently be so great that the few who have at-
tempted it have recoiled. And perhaps the advanced years of Dr.
Peet, and his many other avocations may not permit him to under-
take it. He is understood to be now employing his leisure upon a
a School History of the United States, which, while its simplicity and
perspicuity of style shall adapt it to the use of the deaf and dumb,
will be equally well adapted for children who hear; and in which
it is proposed to take special care to secure accuracy of statement, as
well as to preserve the interest by the choice of incidents.

The limits of a sketch like this will not permit us to give, as we
were tempted to do, an exposition of the plan of Dr. Peet's course
of instruction. Such an exposition may be found in some able arti-
cles contributed by him to the "American Annals of the Deaf and
Dumb," a quarterly, published at Hartford.* We can here only ex-
plain that the plan of the " Course " is founded on a principle of phi-
losophical progress, beginning with the words and phrases that accu-
rately express ideas already familiar to the pupil, on the great funda-
mental principle that *' ideas should precede names," and thence go-
ing by gradual and skillfully arranged steps from the simple to the
complex, from the concrete to the abstract ; so that, as far as practi-
cable, only one difficulty shall be introduced at one time, and each

*See in particular, Vol. III., p. 99, and on ; also Dr. Peel's article on the Course of In-
struction, in the Proceedings of the Second Convention, etc , p. 39, and on.

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET. 243

difficulty overcome shall serve as a stepping stone to the next. Cuts
are, of course, used for explaining Avords and phrases, wherever prac-
ticable ; and the reading lessons are admirably simple in style and
construction, yet attractive and piquant.

Simple and obvious as these principles are, — in their practical ap-
plication there is much room for divergence of opinion ; and even the
first step can not be intelligently taken except by one who is familiar
with the mental habits of the deaf and dumb, and knows that when
they first come to the instructor, the current of their private thoughts
is very different from that series of abstract and general propositions
which prevail in the meditations of those who hear, — that they think
by " direct intuition," — as though, in a sort of mental camera oh-
scura, objects with their qualities and actions were continually passing.
Hence Dr. Peet begins with words and phrases correctly representing
these mental images; at first single words, a book, a horse, a bird ;
then descriptive phrases, made more intelligible by contrast, as a
black book, a white book, a large horse, a small bird. Numbers and
the plural form are early introduced, and verbs first appear under the
form of the participle, as a horse running, a bird Jlying, it being con-
sidered that these phrases acccurately describe the pictures shown to
the pupil, whereas no pictures will adequately represent the sentences,
The horse runs ; The bird flies. Hence the finite verb is deferred
till, by the development of his ideas during two or three months of
instruction, and by some practice in appreciating the divisions of time,
the pupil has become able to apprehend those ideas of assertion and
time which constitute the essence of the verb. And at his first intro-
duction to the verb, care is taken to make a distinction which, for
want of such early care, we have known many educated mutes to go
through life without being able to appreciate, the distinction between
the actual present, " Mary is dancing," and the habitual present,
"Mary dances sometimes." In this philosophical spirit the work is
planned, and it is no small praise to say that the execution is worthy
of the plan.

In order to take all Dr. Peet's series of school books for the deaf
and dumb in one view, we have anticipated the order of time. The
institution was, by its charter, placed under the care and control of a
Board of Directors, composed of twenty-five of the most respectable
and intelligent citizens of New York, men whose judgment might aid
the principal in the management of the institution, and whose social
and political influence had much weight with the legislature in its
behalf. The presidency of this board was successively filled by such
men as DeWitt Clinton, Samuel L. Mitchell, LL. D., Rev. James Mil-

244 HARVEY PRINDLE FEET.

nor, D.D., and Robert C. Cornell. On the death of the two last, which
occurred within a few months of each other in the spring of 1845, the
title of president was, by general consent, and as a just tnbute to his
eminent worth and services, conferred on Mr. Peet ; the first, and we
believe the only case in which the principal or superintendent of such
an institution is also president of its Board of Directors or Trustees.
(The degree of Doctor of Laws, (LL. D.,) was conferred on Mr. Peet,
as we have said, by the regents of the university, three or four years
later.) This change of title brought no change in the immediate
relations of Dr. Peet to the institution. He continued, as he has
ever done, to reside in the building, to fulfill the duties both of the
head of the institution, and the head of the family; and to give his
personal attention and the benefit of his great experience in all cases
of difficulty in any department of the establishment.

It was, we think, early in the year, 1844, that the Hon. Horace
Mann, returning from a visit of inspection to the educational institu-
tions of Europe, especially of Germany, published his report, in which
he took occasion to say that, in his opinion the " Institutions for the
Deaf and Dumb in Prussia, Saxony, and Holland, are decidedly
superior to any in this country." On examination, it appeared that
the distinguished author of this report, who, with all his eminent zeal
for the cause of education, and admitted ability, was too apt to jump to
conclusions upon insufficient premises, had formed this opinion upon
a very superficial examination of the German schools, and no examina-
tion at all of our own. Still the specific point of difference on which
his opinion was based, that the German teachers teacli, or attempt to
teach their deaf pupils to speak, while ours had long since formally
relinquished that attempt, was prima facie such as to make an
impression on the public mind, ever moved by novelties, and prone to
believe in the marvelous. Though, therefore, all the evidence we then
had went to show that even in the German language, much moro
favorable to such an attempt than our own, the teaching or articula-
tion to the deaf and dumb seldom yielded any results of real practical
value, while it certainly involved a heavy waste of time and labor, —
still it seemed proper to ascertain by actual examination whether we
were in fact so far behind the German or other European schools, that,
if there were valuable lessons to be learned, we might learn them, and
if not, that our institutions, might retain in the public estimation the
place they had so hardly won. To this end, each of the two oldest
and largest American Institutions for the deaf and dumb, sent an
agent to Europe. The American Asylum, sent its late esteemed prin-
cipal, Mr. Weld, and the New York Institution, sent one of its former

HARVEY PRINDLE PEET.

245

instructors, Rev. George E. Day, now a professor in the Lane Theolog-
ical Seminary, Ohio. The reports of these gentlemen made after
very full and candid examination, were justly held to be conclusive
that, on the whole, the results of our system of instruction were supe-
rior to those obtained in the German schools. Mr. Feet's letter of
instruction to Mr. Day, prefixed to the report of the latter, (see Twenty-
Sixth Annual Report of the New York Institution,) is esteemed a
model paper of its kind, and shows how fully and clearly its author
understood, in advance, all the bearings of the question at issue.
Seven years later, (in the spring of 1851,) Dr. Peet himself, with his
eldest son and three of his pupils, visited Europe on a similar errand ;
and made a voluminous report on the condition of the European
schools he visited, and on the various systems of instruction he found
in use, which is one of the most valuable and interesting documents
of the kind extant, and at the same time, a graphic and agreeable
book of travels. While in London, on this occasion, he took part in
the first annual convention of British teachers of the deaf and dumb.

The first convention of American Instructors of the Deaf and Dumb,
had been held at the New York Institution, a year before this time,
(in 1850,) and Dr. Peet, returned from Europe just in time to attend
the second convention, held at Hartford, in August, 1851. Two other
conventions have been held since, (the interval having been changed
from one to two years, and tw^o meetings postponed a year, from un-
favorable and unforeseen circumstances.) At all these conventions.
Dr. Peet, to whose exertions and influence the holding of the first
convention w^as mainly due, took a leading part. Besides, in the dis-
cussions that arose, freely imparting the benefit of his rare experience
to his younger brethren, papei-s of great value, and prepared with
much labor and research, were presented by him at each convention,
and published with its proceedings. Of these papers, we will particu-
larize that on the " Origin and Early History of the Art of Instruct-
ing the Deaf and Dumb," presented at the first convention, and also
inserted in the American Annals, (III., 129 and on,) and the "Report
on the Legal Rights and Liabilities of the Deaf and Dumb," presented
at the fourth convention, whose proceedings are not yet published, but
an imperfect copy of this paper appeared in the American Journal of
Insanity, last summer. The former of these papers corrects several
errors of Degerando, hitherto almost the only authority usually refer-
red to on that subject ; and the latter has been pronounced by com-
petent judges a valuable contribution to our legal literature, and sup-
plies information which hitherto could be obtained only by very exten-
sive and laborious research.

246 ilAllVEY PRINDLE PEET.

Wc will close our account of Dr. Poet's contributions to the litera-
ture of deaf-mute instruction, by noticing three or four other remark-
able productions; the address at the dedication of the chapel of the
New York Institution, (December 184(3,) that delivered on the occa-
sion of laying the comer-stone of the North Carolina Institution,
(April, 1848,) the "Report on the Education of the Deaf and Dumb
in the Higher Branches of Learning," (1852,) which led to the estab-
lishment of the High Class in the New York Institution, a measure
that has contributed essentially to elevate the general standard of
deaf-mute education ;* and the curious article on the " Notions of the
Deaf and Dumb before Instruction, especially on Religious Subjects,"
which appeared in the Bibliotheca Sacra for July, 1855. In the last
mentioned article, it is shown that, whatever may be the ability of tlie
human intellect in a high stage of development, to arrive at just and
ennobling conceptions of a Creator and supreme governor of the
world, the imeducated deaf and dumb have, in no clearly attested
instances, originated, from their own reflections, the idea of God, or of
a Creator.

Space is wanting for a more particular notice of these and other
papers, nor can we here enumerate the topics treated of in the Annual
Reports of the New York Institution, which, unlike the generality of
such reports, instead of being confined to details of local or temporary
interest, — discuss with Dr. Peet's characteristic ability, fullness of
information, and comprehensiveness of examination, the most import-
ant topics connected directly or indirectly, with the subject of deaf-
mute instruction. The Thirty-Fifth Report, for instance, embraces the
fullest and besi digested body of statistics of the deaf and dumb which
has been yet published.

Dr. Peet has been fortunate in his children. He has the able assist-
ance of his two elder sons, accomplished teachei-s of the deaf and
dumb, in his own institution. The eldest, as teacher of the High Class,
has had the satisfaction of training up the best educated class of deaf-
mutes taken as a class, that ever graduated.

Dr. Peet has now nearly reached the accomplishment of his last
great labor, the planning and erection of buildings that will make the
New York Institution, in that respect, as we believe it to be in all
others, a model institution of its kind. In this, and in his other labors
for the benefit of the deaf and dumb, he has been ably seconded by
an intelligent and energetic Board of Directors. From the mode of

♦It is due fo General P. M. Wetmore, recently ▼ice-president of the in^titufion, to
say thiit. in the establishment of the Ilitrh Class, as in other measures for the bonffit of the
deaf and dumb, he rendered very valuable aid, and merits the lasting p-atitude of the deaf and
dumb of New York.

HAKVEY PRINDLE PEET.

247

election, by a few life members and subscribers, and the gratuitous
nature of their services, the Directors of the New York Institution are
solely men attracted together by benevolent interest in the cause of
the deaf and dumb, and respect for, and sympathy with the character
of the president. Hence it is that they have been so ready to appre-
ciate, encourage and aid his labors. In this matter of the erection of
the new buildings, especially, it required zeal, foresight, and sanguine
trust in the future, to prevent that perfection of plan and proportions
so admirable in the new buildings from being sacrificed to a severe,
though temporary pecuniary pressure.* Of those features that have
been more particularly the object of Dr. Peet's personal attention and
solicitude, we may specify the arrangements and apparatus for warm-
ing and ventilation.

From this sketch of Dr. Peet's public life, his character as a chris-
tian gentleman, as the head of an institution, as a teacher, as an
accomplished master of the language of pantomime, as a leader and
energetic laborer in all movements for the benefit of the common
cause of deaf-mute education, — and as the author of the best existing
series of works in our language, perhaps in any language, on the
instruction of the deaf and dumb, — though inadequately set forth,
will, we trust, be apparent to the reader. But to his many fiiends,
and to the hundreds of deaf-mutes who, educated under his care, have
learned to love and honor him as a father, such a portraiture will
appear not only feeble, but very incomplete, as omitting one of Dr.
Peet's most prominent traits of character, — his warm benevolence of
heart, — of which the best illustration is the filial affection with which
he is regarded by his pupils, the warm and active interest he has ever
taken in their temporal and spiritual welfare, and the aid he has ever
been ready to give to any of his former pupils who deserved and stood
in need of his assistance. When dismissing his pupils at the end of
their course, he is wont to give each a little letter of advice, in which,
encouraging them to seek his aid in any future season of trouble, he
says, " Come to us, I repeat, with the confidence of children to a father.
AVe shall be ever ready to redress your wrongs, to seek for you employ-
ment that shall ensure for you comfort and respectability ; and in
those afflictions which only time and Providence can relieve, to afford
the sympathy and advice that may inspire consolation, patience, and
cheerfulness." And the instances are not few in which this pledge
has been fulfilled.

* The result of the pecuniary difficulties referred to, has been that the Slate of New YortC,
hasformally assumed the proprietorship of the institution, maintaining it as it is, U has thus
become in name, as it long has been de facto, a State Institution.

248 HARVEY PRINDLE PEET

Comparing the present state of the institution with what it was in
1830, then a small and inferior school, ill provided with teachers,
without any good plan of instruction, or acceptable series of lessons ;
now in the very foremost rank of special educational institutions,
furnishinor text-books and teachers to other schools, and looked to as
a model, both in its system of instruction and the plan of its buildings,
by its results and publications elevating the standard of deaf-mute
instruction, and spreading abroad an interest that leads to the found-
ing of new institutions, Dr. Peet may well feel that the earnest and
unfaltering labor of twenty-six years has not been in vain. He has
not, we trust, nearly reached the term of his active usefulness. Though
crowned with the glory of grey hairs, judging from his erect form,
active step, and unabated powers of attention to the duties of his ardu-
ous post, — the deaf and dumb of New York, and of the whole Union
may, for years to come, benefit by his labors. And when the time
shall come for retirement from active labor, he will known that the
blessings of hundreds follow him down the vale of years, and that the
future of the institution to which his life has been devoted, — with its
great trust for the benefit of the deaf and dumb of generations to come,
may safely be left in the care of the teachers he has trained up.

i

i

XC.ButLce. emreBslTfor Htasidi; I«ctra:£

©©fSTT. 'y^i^f ^ a iS^^LcsonrTTa

250 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

His mother, however, who had seen a better class of books, was ac-
customed, while he was employed, during the long winter evenings,
in paring apples, knitting and other domestic occupations, to relate to
him their contents ; in some instances giving a very full account of a
valuable book. His unbounded thirst to know, she thus in some
measure kept alive for future better opportunities.

When he had read many times over the books already mentioned,
he began to borrow of the neighbors. Whatever could be obtained
for several miles round, he eagerl}' devoured, without much discrim-
ination. It happened, however, that most of the books he borrowed
were negatively good, and some of them excellent. Such books as
The Saracen, Pamela, Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa Harlow,
Stephen Burroughs, Paul and Virginia, and Robinson Crusoe, were
among the worst; while Stiles' Judges of Charles I., Life of
Franklin, Murray's Power of Religion on the Mind, Pope's Essay on
Man, Milton's Paradise Lost, Young's Night Thoughts, Gesner's Death
of Abel, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Vicar of Wakefield, and Burgh's
Dignity of Human Nature, especially the last, had a better influence
upon him. Chance also threw in his way a work on electricity, Blair's
Moral Philosophy, and Trumbull's History of Indian Wars, of which
his hungry and thirsty mind made the most.

There were indeed the fragments of an old library in the place, but
many years elapsed before he could get access to it ; and when, at the
age of fourteen, he obtained a right to it, he found fewer books con-
genial to his taste than he had expected. Doddridge's Rise and
Progress, Fuller's Gospel its own witness, Neal's History of the Puri-
tans, Trumbull's History of Connecticut, The Life of Mohammed, Jo-
sephus' History of the Jews, and Rollins' Ancient History, were
among the best ; and some of them exerted a most marked and decided
influence upon his character.

He read slowly, and frequently with pen in hand ; and some of his
notes, still in existence, form considerable volumes. Rare books,
Avhich he borrowed, he sometimes copied entire. Still, he generally
read for amusement. The idea of self-education and self-advancement
had as yet dawned but indistinctly on his mind ; although he was uncon-
sciously, but therefore the more surely, educating himself. From one
book, however, — Rollins' History, — he extracted something beyond
amusement. All the leisure time ho could find, amid five months of
active farm larbor, was devoted to the careful perusal of this work ;
and he seems never to have forgotten it.

At this early period he became fond of versifying ; an occupation of
uncertain value. Some of his friends, from weakness or thoughtlessness,

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT 251

encouraged it. But he did not long waste his time in this way;
he gradually substituted for it the more valuable habit of letter writing.

As yet there had been no post-office in his native town, and
therefore little communication with the surrounding world. In a popu-
lation of nearly two hundred families, not twenty, perhaps not a dozen,
had ever so much as taken a newspaper of any kind. By saving his
spending money from time to time, he was at length able for one
quarter, — perhaps for a whole half year, — in company with a young
friend, to take a weekly newspaper. •

In this state of things he attempted to form a juvenile library. A
constitution and set of by-laws were prepared with much wisdom ;
and he was made the librarian. Of seven youths, mostly about
fourteen or fifteen years of age, who signed the constitution, only three
ever paid the first installment. There was no parental encouragement,
even in good words. A small volume entitled Cotemporary Biogra-
phy, was purchased with the fifty cents which had been raised, and
thoroughly read, after which they all sold out their rights to the
librarian ; and thus ended this first attempt at educational improvement.

The habit of epistolary correspondence became almost a pastime
with him, as it still is. A regular and frequent and sometimes profita-
ble correspondence with one young friend was begun as early as the
age of twelve years, and continued for twenty years or more; and had
no little influence in the formation of his general character.

His great aim all this while was to be a printer. Various other
employments had indeed been mentioned by his friends. One aged
grandmother, with whom he was a favorite, preferred to have him
educated to be a minister. Another as strenuously maintained that
he ought to be a physician. His own parents said nothing ; partly
doubtless, from modesty, and partly from poverty.

The young man himself could see no way of ever becoming a
printer ; yet his attachment to the employment was so strong that he
could not willingly give up the idea of one day reaching it. He con-
tinued to labor indeed, with great faithfulness, (though he was some-
times a little absent minded,) because he believed it to be his duty.
The idea of becoming a teacher or an author was far from his thoughts.

He was little more than eighteen years of age, when application
was made to his father to permit his son to keep the school in his
native district. The school house stood but a few rods from his
father's dwelling, and six hours in school would leave him several
hours for labor ; besides the sum of ten dollars a month, even though
he furnished his own board, looked very tempting. He at length
consented to take the school for three months.

252 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

His success this winter was limited in two ways. 1. His discipline
was harsh and severe ; not so much from natural inclination, as he
was by nature mild and forbearing, but in the belief that sternness
and a kind of martial discipline were indispensable. 2. His heart was
too much divided between his labor in the school and that for his
father, which consumed nearly every moment out of school, not occu-
pied in sleep. Nevertheless, he had some merit as a teacher, and his
reputation went abroad.

For six successive winters, with the single interruption of one year,
(when he went South to teach,) he continued to be employed in
different parts of Hartford and Litchfield counties, with a gradually
increasing compensation. By a few he was valued, because they
thought him a smart master, who would make the pupils know their
places ; by others, for his reputation as a scholar ; and by others still,
because he was valued highly by the children. It was in those days
very much, in essence, as it is now : parents would not visit the
schools where their children were if they could help it ; and what
they knew about the school they had to take at second hand.

Two things he certainly did as a teacher ; he labored incessantly,
both "in season and out of season." No man was ever more punc-
tual or more faithful to his employers. And then he governed his
school with that sort of martial law which secured a silence, that in
the common schools of his native region had been little known. This
procured for him one species of reputation that extended far and wide,
so that his services were by a particular class much sought for. It
was his boast, as it was that of part of his friends and pupils, that at
almost any moment during school hours — such was the stillness —
a pin falling to the floor might be heard distinctly. But it was a
silence which was obtained at a very great — almost too great —
sacrifice.

The following anecdote will serve as an illustration of the point.
One of his pupils was to be punished with the rod. Great preparation
was made, and the scholars in general were " put in fear," as was the
teacher's intention.

The flagellation, though not remarkably severe, was performed
with a stick somewhat brittle at the end, a piece of which broke off,
and struck the cheek of another boy, and raised a little blood. The
pupils carried home the report. Some weeks afterward, the teacher
■was surprised to learn that a complaint had been entered against him
to the grand jury of the town, by the guardians of the boy whose
cheek had been hurt, and that he was in danger of a prosecution.
The complaint, however, was taken very little notice of, and the affair

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

253

died away. Good order had been secured in school, and all appeared
to be going on well ; and it was probably deemed unwise to interfere.
The whole affair, however, was known abroad, and somewhat injured
him.

His popularity was also diminished by the stand he took against
public exhibitions, or quarter days as they were called. For though
almost everybody spoke well of the change, and preferred, as they
said, the new custom of keeping the door always open to visitors, for
every day of the week, yet it was easy to see that the plan was re-
garded as an innovation upon ancient usages. Nobody visited the
school now ; and the teacher and his pupils were entirely alone, at
least nineteen days out of twenty, the whole term.

During the last of these six years of teaching, which was 1821, he
had been made an executive officer of his native town, and he en-
deavored to fulfill the trust reposed in him. But as his school was
four or five miles from his field of civil activity, the two kinds of labor
did not very well harmonize, and the school sometimes suffered. He
had hence been obliged to discontinue his school on a certain occa-
sion, in order to commit to the county prison a common debtor.
Anxious to be at his school on the morning of the second day, ac-
cording to expectation, he traveled in the extreme cold of a January
night till nearly morning, and scarcely closed his eyes in sleep during
the whole time. The next morning he was in school at the precise
hour of nine o'clock ; though in order to effect this he had fatigued
himself still farther by a long and rapid Avalk that morning. They
who have had a similar experience will not be surprised when they
are told that with irritated brain and nerves the school appeared to
him' more like a bedlam than any thing else. Disappointed in his
attempts to secure the wonted silence, he was about to execute ven-
geance on some of those whom he regarded as the ringleaders, when
lo! the injunction of Salzmann, the German educator, to look for the
cause internallij, came to his mind. In himself — his care, fatigue and
sleeplessness— he sought for the cause, and in himself he found it!

With all his errors, he was preeminently successful as a teacher ;
and had been very greatly attached to his employment. He had
even begun to cherish the hope of being able one day to teach per-
manently. And yet there were serious difficulties in the way. His
scanty wages, twelve dollars a month, had chiefly gone to aid in the
support of his fjither's family, and he was unable to study his profess-
ion, had there been opportunity, for want of the needful funds. Then,
too, there was little encouragement to do so, had he possessed the
moans ; since male teachers were seldom employed except for four or

254 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

five montlis of the winter. Indeed it was not usual to continue the
schools for more than seven or eight months in the year.

In the spring of 1S22, after he had closed his sixth annual winter
term of teaching, and at the end of a long search, he found means to
obtain a school for one year. It was a new thing in the place, but
relying on his fame as a teacher, which had long since reached them,
and anxious to obtain his services in the best way they could, and at
such time as they could, it was agreed to employ him for the time
above-mentioned, including a vacation of one month, at nine dollars
a month, or ninety-nine dollars a year and his board. Hitherto,
for some time, he had received twelve dollars a month, but here was
steady employment. A liberal individual volunteered to add one
dollar from his own purse, to make up the sum to $100, upon which
the offer was acceded to, and he began his school early in May. He
was now nearly twenty-four years of age. He boarded in the families
of his employers, as was the custom of the times. This year, however,
ho was to traverse the district twice ; that is, every six months. As
the school was very large, made up from some thirty families or more, his
course might have well deserved the usual term of opprobrium, —
"begging his bread from door to door."

But this boarding in the fomilies, to a person of a missionary
spirit, has its advantages ; and Dr. Alcott endeavored to make the
most of it. He soon became, what he had for some time been veroino:
toward, a missionary of education. He spent most of his time while
in these families, not in reading, of wliich, however, he was becoming
more and more fond, but in instructing the children by conversa-
tion and anecdotes, and incidentally, both directly and indirectly, the
parents. His whole heart was in his school, and he endeavored to
have theirs strongly turned in the same direction. He threw open
his doors and solicited their daily visits. He urged the necessity of
reform in many particulars, which, in that district and indeed all over
that region, had been till now chiefly overlooked.

One of the first things that he pressed upon the attention of his
employers was an improvement of the condition of the school room.
Hitherto, for the most part, in Connecticut at least, the seats for the
smaller pupils had consisted of a mere plank or slab, usually too high.
He did not* believe in the usefulness or necessity of suspending any
but the most guilty and abandoned between the earth and the heav-
ens. But the proposal to build a few seats with backs was stared at,
and by some ridiculed. However, persevering appeals to mothers on
the dangerous consequences of deformity in their daughters, from long
sitting on these benches, at length prevailed, and a change was eflfected.

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 255

Heating and ventilating came next ; but here he was far less sue
cessful. One thing, however, he could and did do. At every recess,
in cold or heat, the doors and windows were thrown open, and the
pure air of heaven was allowed to sweep through for a few moments.

Yet his largest innovation upon ancient usage, was in methods ot
instruction, particularly for the youngest pupils. Up to this period,
ir. nine-tenths of the schools, most of the smaller pupils had done
little more than "say A, B, and sit on a bench ;" and that, as we have
seen, a very indifferent one. As a consequence, those whom Satan
found idle he usually employed. Hence many petty school laws,
and petty punishments. The idea of employing them in something
useful by way of prevention had not occurred to a dozen teachers in
all that region.

Blackboards at that time had not been thought of; but slates were
cheap and abundant. Dr. Alcott procured a dozen or two of small
size, and one very large one, and a quantity of pencils, and resolved
on an experiment.

He would say to his abecedarians sometime after opening school ;
Now you have sat so still this long time, that I am going to let you
take the slates and and amuse yourselves with them. The small slates
and pencils were then distributed, while the large one was either held
up by an older pupil, or suspended on a nail where they could all see it.

On this incipient blackboard, he had coarsely traced, as a copy for
imitation, a house, a tree, a cat, or a dog. They were not slow to fol-
low out his suggestions, and thus to keep themselves, for a time, out
of mischief. From the pictures of dogs, birds, cats and other animals,
and of houses, trees, &c., they proceeded to making letters, in the
printed form, and then to their construction in words, and finally to
writing an^ composition.

But the detail of his innovations, especially in methods of instruc-
tion, will hardly be needful to those who have read his " Confessions
of a Schoolmaster," written some twenty years afterward, and now of
late revised and reprinted. This work reveals a soul struggling with
error both internal and external ; though afterward, through good re-
port and through evil, reaching a point of education to which few
teachers at that early period ever attained. If its style should be ob-
jected to as a little too homespun, yet its plain, straightforward com-
mon sense, and its strict adhesion to truth and nature, impart an in-
terest which even now, at this stage of the common school reforma-
tion, render it next to the " District School as it was," one of the most
suitable books which could be had for the Teacher's library.

So great, indeed, was his enthusiasm and so unreserved his devo-

266 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

tion to the cause to which he seemed to be for life devoted, that he
could hardly think, converse, or read, on any other subject. It even
abridged his hours of sleep, and occasionally deprived him of his
usual food. For he often rose before daylight, during the short days
of winter, and hastened away to his school room, sometimes a mile
or a mile and a half distant, before the family with whom he boarded
was up ; and occasionally before he had access to even a frugal meal.

If it is asked what he could find to do at the school room for an
hour or two before the time of opening the school, the reply is, that
in the first place he made his own fires and swept his own floor, and
would permit no one else to do it. His maxim, here, in a matter
which Concerned the happiness of sixty or seventy children, was, " If
you want your work well done, do it yourself." This is not mentioned
as a thing which should be imitated. The time and energies of the
teacher are too valuable. But, in the second place, he had a great
deal of preparation to make, copies to be written, lessons to be assigned,
<kc. Thirdly, he delighted in getting around him a group of chil-
dren, and telling them stories from day to day, and thus securing their
punctual and cheerful attention. Fourthly, there were even at times
extra recitations in branches which he was not allowed or expected to
permit during the usual formal six hours.

In short — and to repeat — his zeal and labors were as untiring, as
they were unheard of before in that region. He would not only labor
for his flock in season, but out of season ; and as he would himself
doubtless now admit, out of reason too. For he not only gave up his
mornings and evenings to the children or their parents, but he
would not even permit himself to sit in the school room, for a mo-
ment. He was, literally, on his feet from morning till night ; and as
it was vulgarly expressed by some of his patrons, not only always on
his feet, but always " on the jump."

The severity of his self-denials and exertions joined to other causes,
especially a feeble and delicate constitution, brought on him, toward
the end of summer, a most violent attack of erysipelas, from the ef-
fects of which, though he escaped with his life, he never entirely re-
covered.

At the close of the year for which he had engaged, although the
district did not feel able to continue the school any longer by the year,
they unanimously engaged him for the unusually long terra of six
months the ensuing winter, at the price of thirteen dollars per month
or seventy-eight dollars for the term. This was deemed a compensa-
tion quite in advance for those times, and was accepted as entirely
satisfactory.

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 257

Here, then, he was, during the winter of 1823-4, laborinnr exceed-
ingly hard both in teaching and in discipline ; and yet in the end, in
both departments, accomplishing his object. It is, however, to be
confessed — if he has not himself confessed it — that he resorted oc-
casionally to such measures, in order to secure the desired discipline,
as were neither satisfactory to himself, on reflection, nor fully sustained
by the public opinion. However, he made his mark, and it was not
easily obliterated.

Ilis influence, here, was continued — perhaps increased — by A. B.
Alcott, his old friend and kinsman, who became his successor in the
pedagogic chair. Within a few years the district in which the last
mentioned labors were performed, has, in common with an adjoining
district, erected a public school house, which is greatly in advance of
any thing of the kind in that part of Connecticut; and at an expense,
as it is said, of $16,000.

During four months of the winter of 1824-5, Dr. Alcott had the
care of the central school of Bristol, a district adjoining the scene
of his former labors. Here he was useful, but with two or three
drawbacks. One was his medical studies ; for he was not now board-
ing around, but in the family of a medical man, to whom he recited.
Then, in order to gain time, he restricted himself to four hours sleep,
which rendered him more nervous and irritable than formerly ; and
finally brought on him a fit of sickness, which, though he unexpect-
edly recovered from it, in some degree impaired his energies, and neu-
tralized his eflbrts for the whole winter. He did not add to his repu-
tation as a teacher by the efforts of this winter; but rather dimin-
ished it.

In studying a new profession, he had no wish or intention to re-
linquish the profession he had already chosen. But the longer he
had taught, the more he had felt his incapacity to the task, and the
greater his anxiety to qualify himself if possible, and if not too late,
for so responsible an office. And as, on the other hand, there was no
Normal School, or Teacher's Seminary to which he could resort, and,
on the other, he had not the pecuniary means of pursuing an academ-
ic and collegiate course, he not unaptly and unwisely concluded to
study medicine as a preparation, indirectly, for the office of educator
reserving to himself the privilege, should his health fail, of which
there were increasing signs, of practicing medicine as a substitute.

During the winter of 1825-6, he attended a regular course of med-
ical lectures at New Haven, and in the following March received a
license to practice medicine and surgery. But his health was far
from being good, and he was himself beginning to be more apprehen-

258 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

sive than consumptive people usually are, of a fetal result. However
he was more determined than ever before, to devote his life, if possi-
ble, to the work which Divine Providence seemed to have assigned
him.

But lie came from the college at a season of the year when it was
not customary to employ any but female teachers in the schools ; and
after some hesitation, he made application, in order not to interrupt
his chosen labors, for the central school in his native town, at one dol-
lar and fifty cents a week, and "board round;" that being the usual
rate paid to female teachers. This offer, though unexpected and not
a little mysterious, was accepted; and in May, 1826, he commenced
his woVk.

It was his settled determination, and he did not hesitate to make it
fully known, to have a model school, on his own fjivorite plan ; al-
though the pecuniary means were wanting. He had not ten dollars
in the world. All his resources, after paying for his medical educa-
tion and a few books, and after remunerating his father, as he was
proud to believe he did, for the expense of bringing him up, were
soon exhausted in fitting up his school room, — in the purchase of
maps, designs, vessels for flowers and plants, and such fixtures, as, in
his judgment, would conduce to the proper cultivation of the mind
and heart and taste of his pupils. He rightly judged that a plain
and simple people, who knew him well, would not seriously object to
innovations which cost them nothing in dollars and cents. He was,
indeed, regarded as a little visionary, but was permitted to go on.
And in his missionary life — going from house to house for liis
board — he had opportunity for making, from time to time, such ex-
planations as were quite satisfactory.

Besides carrying out and perfecting the approved method of teach-
ing the elementary branches, which he had for several years been
applying with so much success, he added to them several others,
particularly in defining, grammar, and geography. He introduced
also, what he called his silent, or Quaker exercise. This consisted in
requiring his pupils, at a certain time every morning — usually imme-
diately after the opening of the school and devotional exercises — to
lay aside every thing else, and give themselves up to reflection on the
events, duties <fec., of the twenty-four hours next preceding. At the
close of this unbroken silence, which usually lasted five minutes, any
pupil was liable to be called upon to relate the recitations and events
of the preceding day, in their proper order and sequence.

In commencing this school, in his native town, Dr. Alcott had oth-
ejj and very exalted ulterior aims. His warm heart embraced no less

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 0.39

than the whole of his townsmen. These he meant to enlighten, ele-
vate, and change, until Wolcott should become, instead of a rude,
unenlightened, obscure place, a miniature Switzerland.

But his puhnonary difficulties, which had been for ten years in-
creasing upon him, aggravated, no doubt, by hard study, improper
diet, and other irregularities of the preceding winter, now became
threatening in the extreme. Besides a severe cough and great ema-
ciation, he was followed by hectic fever and the most exhausting and
discouraging perepirations. He fought bravely to the last moment ;
but w{is compelled to quit the field and relinquish for the present all
hopes of accomplishing his mission.

For a short time he followed the soundest medical advice he could
obtain. He kept quiet, took a little medicine, ate nutritious food, and
when his strength would permit, breathed pure air. This course was
at length changed for one of greater activity, and less stimulus. He
abandoned medicine, adopted, for a time, the " starvation" system, or
nearly that, and threw himself, by such aids as he could obtain, into
the fields and woods, and wandered among the hills and mountains.

In the autumn he was evidently better. He was able to perform
light horticultural labors a few hours of the day, and to ride on horse-
back. For six months he rode on horseback almost daily, as a sort
of journeyman physician; at the end of which period he commenced
the practice of medicine on his own responsibility, in the same place
where he had last labored, and where he was born — still continuing
to make his professional visits on horseback.

His hopes of reforming his native town now revived. He not only
practiced medicine, but took a deep interest in the moral and intel-
lectual condition of the people. He superintended a Sabbath School ;
aided in the examination of the public school teachers ; held teach-
ers' meetings, in " his own hired house," &c., &c. Not Oberlin him-
self in his beloved Ban de La Roche, had purer or more benevolent
or more exalted purposes.

As a member of the prudential committee on common schools, he
was active, efficient, and highly useful. He was, in fact, the soul of
the board. If a teacher was to be examined, it was under his direc-
tion and eye ; if the schools were to be visited officially, he was al-
ways on hand to fulfill the public expectation ; if the teachers were
to convene weekly, for mutual improvement, it w^as by his suggestion
and at his house. If a new school book was needed, he was consult-
ed. His counsels were often regarded as decisive. No time or means
which did not interfere with his professional duties, was grudged,
when he had the slightest hope of promoting the public good.

20 j WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

Occasionally however, as might have been expected, his zeal out-
nm his knowledge, and his movements were regretted. CardelFs
" Jack Halyard," for example, was adopted for a class-book in read-
ing for all the classes in the schools ; when it should have been used
by those of a certain stage of progress only. But like Goldsmith's
Tillage schoolmaster, " e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side," and
were soon forgotten.

We have seen something of his desire for public improvement in
Lis attempt to form a youthful library. While teaching a public
school, he was in the habit of collecting a small library of useful
books for the young, which he used, during the term, as a school li-
brary— giving away the volumes at the close of the term, to his pu-
pils. It does not appear that, at this early period, the subject of
school libraries had ever been agitated ; but here was at least the idea
in embryo.

As soon as he was fairly established as a physician, he began to
collect a library for the town. Its volumes were loaned, from time to
time, to such persons as had already imbibed a taste for reading ; and
doubtless had a good influence. But the plan was so troublesome
that he soon abandoned it; and in his stead prevailed with his friends
and townsmen to establish a public town library on the rains of the
old one already mentioned.

lie had already begun to write for the newspapers, on various sub-
jects, particularly on common school education. A long and stormy
series had been published — though in an uncouth and somewhat
bombastic style — in the Columbian Register of New Haven, as
early as 1823. Several shorter series on the same subject appeared
in this and other papers during the years 1826 and 1827. The habit
was not wholly discontinued while he was pursuing the practice of
medicine and surgery. Among his contributions of this sort, between
the years 1826 and 1829, were a number of articles in the Boston
Journal of Education, then under the care of Mr. William Russell.

A correspondence was also opened about this time, with Mr. Rus-
sell, as well as with Rev. Samuel J. May, of Brooklyn, in Connecti-
cut, and several other warm friends of educational improvement, in
different parts of the last mentioned state, particularly in Hartford.
This correspondence was valuable as an aid in maturing his own views,
and those of others.

On entering the fourth year of his medical practice, he found his
health so much improved that he volunteered to return to teaching.
This was in the autumn of 1829. In less than two weeks he was
teaching n district school in the adjoining town of Southington.

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 2 J I

His school, though in a somewhat remote corner of the town, w:ts
large, and made up of rather heterogeneous materials. Here ho pur-
sued his improved methods of teaching without molestation. There
were a few complaints about too rigid discipline; but in general, his
course met with approbation. In the method of teaching EuolisU
grammar, especially Etymology*, he even made large advances. This
method was published both in the Journal of Education and the Con-
fessions of a Schoolmaster; but they were so novel, and yet so im-
portant, that teachers and friends of education who have not seen
either of these works, will doubtless be glad to read a brief descrip-
tion of them. The following, for example, was his method of teach-
ing the deiSnition of the verb.

Without any preliminary information with regard to what he was
about to do, he would ask his pupils to take their slates and pencils,
— or pen and paper, if more convenient — and be ready to attend to
bis direction. Then, stam])ing on the floor with his foot, or clapping
his hands, he would require them to write down what they saw him
do. When this was done, he would perform some other common ac-
tion, such as whistling, hopping, jumping, coughing, laughing, or
singing, and tell them to write again. When he had proceeded far
enough for a single lesson, he would tell them, one by one, to read aloud
wliat they had written. Some would be found to have expressed the
action, as stampinr/^ in diflferent words, or in more than one word ;
but in general they were found to have seized the idea ; and after a
few attempts they would succeed in writing the proper words very
readily. "Now," he would say, "what have you been doing?''
The reply would be various, according to the genius of the pupil ;
but, by cross questions, he would usually soon find they had taken
bold of the main idea, viz., that the words they had written described
actions. When the point was fairly secured, he would add : " These
words, which you have written, are verbs^ " Now," he would ask,
** what is a verb *?" Nor would he be satisfied till he found they per-
fectly understood the matter. Such a definition is never forgotten.

He did not always commence with the names of actions or verbs,
but oftener with nouns or the names of things. In that case he w^ould
set them first to writing down the names of all the things in the room,
or in their father's garden, or in the road between that and the school-
bouse. The names of actions came next ; then substitutes for names, or
pronouns. For this last, and indeed, for all the parts of speech, and for
most of their divisions and subdivisions, he had his peculiar methods.

His first etymological course of teaching on this plan was made as
an experiment. It was in the depth of a very cold winter, and some

262 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

of the pupils, among whom was one female, had to walk a mile or
move, in deep snow. The proposal made by the teacher was, that
they should come to the school room at sunrise, and remain an hour.
The course was to consist of ten lessons. The class consisted of ten
individuals, and not one of them failed of attending punctually from
the beginning to the end of the course. Their progress was respecta-
ble. They acquired as much solid knowledge on this subject, during
the ten lessons of an hour each, as is usually acquired in a whole
term on the ordinary plan.

In the progress of the winter he made a successful attempt to con-
vene teachers, one or two evenings in a week, for mutual improve-
ment. They were some eight or ten in number. One was a female.
They read such works as Hall's " Lectures on School-Keeping," and
the "District School as it was," and made their comments. They
also gave an account, mutually, of their experience and progress as
instructors.

The impression made by these labors was deep and abiding, but it
slowly impaired his health and depressed his spirits ; and, being fear-
ful of a relapse of his pulmonary tendencies he abandoned, for a time,
all hope of teaching permanently.

His plan now was to find, if possible, a manual labor school, where
he might study a little more thoroughly his profession, at little, if any
expense. But, as it appeared, on inquiry, that nothing had yet b<?en
done, he gave up the pursuit, and concluded to labor on the farm for
the summer, near New Haven.

But just as he was settling down on the farm, he had occasion to
be in Hartford, where, to his surprise, he met Rev. AVm. C. Wood-
bridge, who had returned from Europe ; and though in feeble health,
was endeavoring to rouse the attention of a few friends of education
to the necessity of forming a school for teachers, on the plan of Mr.
Fellenberg's school, in Hofvvyl, which he had been for some time
studying. Mr. Woodbridge inquired of Dr. Aleott what ho considered
the capital error of modern education. "The custom of pushing the cul-
tivation of the intellect at the expense of health and morals," was the
reply. This question and reply laid the foundation of an acquaintance
and friendship that was as lasting as the life of the parties.

It was not difficult for Dr. Aleott to yield so much of his own indi-
viduality of opinion and purpose as to become an assistant to Mr.
Woodbridge in his endeavors to eflfect bis purpose of establishing,
Fomewhere in the vicinity of Hartford, a miniature Fellenberg school.
He had unbounded confidence in the integrity and plans of Mr
Woodbridge, and high hopes of his success ; and of becoming himself a

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 2G3

Vehrli in the new institution. So great was this confidence that
though encumbered with a debt of some twelve or fifteen liundred
dollars, which he had contracted in order to establish himself in the
practice of medicine, and which he had not yet been able, in any part,
to cancel, he consented, with the permission of his creditors, to hibor
for a year or two with Mr. Woodbridge, at the very moderate com-
pensation of twelve dollars a month ; which would just clothe him,
and pay the annual interest of his debt. And even when, sometime
afterward, he had the offer of a school in an adjacent town at $300 a
year — an offer which two years before he would have accepted with
all his heart — he only required that Mr. Woodbridge should raise his
wages from twelve to fifteen dollars. This is mentioned to shew his
devotion, at this time, to the cause of common school improvement.

His employments with Mr. Woodbridge were at first various ; for
such was his hope of the future, that he was content for the present
with " small things," — the preparation of a map, the correction of a
portion of geography, or the preparation of an essay or a review. Mr.
Woodbridge not only sanctioned but encouraged the continuance of
his appeals to the friends of common schools through the periodicals.
lie also made frequent and persevering excursions into the surround-
ing country towns to examine their schools, and report concerning
them in the papers and journals. The press teemed with his ar-
ticles; especially the Connecticut Observer and Hartford Courant.
One very substantial and elaborate review of a report on the Manual
Labor School of Pennsylvania — the product of his pen — appeared
about this time, which met with much favor, and was quoted by
foreign wiiters.

While associated with Mr. Woodbridge he not only made the
means of elevating the common schools his constant study, but in
concert with him, laid many plans for the advancement of the cause.
He conceived the idea of establishing a journal of education, but his
own and Mr. M^oodbridge's indigence, and his own great inexperience
and general diffidence, prevented. He was more successful, however,
than formerly, in his attempts to rouse public inquiry on the subject,
by his contributions to the periodical press, and by his pedestrian
excursions, and occasional conversations and lectures.

It was during this period, that is, the years 1830 and 1831, that he
prepared, and on sundry occasions delivered his Essay on the Construc-
tion of School Houses, to which the American Institute of Instruc-
tion, in the autumn of 1831, awarded a premium, and which led the
way to that large and thorough improvement in this department,
which is now going on in this country and elsewhere. He also wrote

264 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

.ind presented to the same body an essay on penmanship ; which,
though it did not obtain the premium, was deemed second in point of
excellence, was recommended to be published, and was widely
circulated.

One field of labor, in which he was wont to engage, has been thus
far unintentionally omitted. The public common school fund in Con-
necticut had at this time become so large that its increase, as appor-
tioned and applied to common schools, was beginning to be felt to be
an evil rather than a blessing. It was sufficient to pay the teachers
for a few months of the year, and the parents had almost ceased to
take a personal interest in their management and general conduct. The
late Mr. Gallaudet, Hon. Roger M. Sherman, Hon. Hawley Olmsted,
Mr. Woodbridge, <fec., saw the necessity of forming a state society for
the improvement of common schools, in which this subject and other
topics should be freely discussed. Such a society had been actually
formed, when Dr. Alcott and Mr. Woodbridge became associated ; and
had held several meetings. Into this movement Dr. Alcott entered
■with all his heart, and he did much to sustain it.

A history of the first public school in Hartford, in which some
recent advances had been made, a volume of a hundred pages or so,
was written by him about this time, and also a volume of nearly the
same size, entitled a "Word to Teachers. They were crude produc-
tions, but not devoid of a certain kind of merit, in that they were
highly practical. But his chief forte, in writing, was the newspaper;
for if its style was not more elegant, — it was more racy and spir-
ited. It is believed that his essays in conjunction with the labors of
others, had much influence not only in New England but throughout
the United States.

But the most important of all his numerous avocations, at this
period, was his travels for the purpose of collecting facts concerning
schools. When Mr. Woodbridge could spare him, and when, too, his
health became somewhat impaired by too much confinement to the
desk, he would sally forth on one of these expeditions, on Avhich ho
was at times absent several weeks.

In 1831, Mr. Woodbridge, having removed to Boston, to superin-
tend and edit the Journal of Education, which he had purchased of
its first proprietor, urgently solicited Dr. Alcott to follow him. At
first he hesitated, as it was feared, both by him and his friends, that
a residence in the eastern part of Massachusetts would hasten apace
his consumption. But having in 1830, abandoned all exciting food
and drink, and adopted such other improved physical habits, as
seemed to be imparting new energies to his frame, he at length

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 265

concluded to accept the proposals; and very early in the year 1832,
he removed to Boston.

The journey was made during a great snow storm in January,
which before he reached Boston, turned into a severe drenching rain,
in which by an accident to the stage coach he became so much ex-
posed, that immediately after his arrival at Boston, he was taken ill
with hemorrhage from the lungs, and other threatening symptoms.
But under the care of Dr. J. C. Warren and good nursing, he recov-
ered slowly, and was able to proceed to the duties which by his
engagement with Mr. Woodbridge, were assigned him. From that
day to this, a quarter of a century, he has, with the exception of one
or two less formidable attacks, enjoyed a most surprising immunity
from pulmonary disease ; nor has he often had so much as a common
cold.

Dr. Alcott had formed many valuable acquaintances in Connecticut ;
among them, Dr. John L. Comstock, Rev. Horace Hooker, Rev. C.
A. Goodrich, Noah Webster, A. F. Wilcox, and Josiah Holbrook.
He left the state with regret ; but with the expectation of returning
to it in at most a few months. He did not however, return until
after nearly twelve years.

Besides assisting Mr. Woodbridge in conducting the Journal (now
Annals) of Education, by writing a large proportion of the articles on
physical education, methods of instruction, <fec., and a considerable
number of book notices and reviews, he was for two years, 1832 and
1833, the practical editor of a Children's Weekly paper, started by
Mr. Woodbridge and his aged father ; one of the objects of which
was to serve as a reading book in common schools. The paper was
called the Juvenile Rambler. It was perhaps, the first paper of the
kind ever issued in this country ; and it so far succeeded as to be
taken by several schools in very large numbers, and to be used with
great satisfaction and profit. But it was troublesome to its editors,
and at the end of two years was discontinued.

Dr. Alcott's labors in the cause of education, now became much
more varied and extended. Besides assisting Mr. W., he wrote
many fugitive pieces on various subjects connected with physical edu-
cation and morals, and the advancement of common education — for
amid all his miscellaneous labors he never lost sight for one moment,
of the public school. He even lectured on this subject, not only
before the American Institute of Instruction, the American Lyceum,
and associations for educational improvement, but to teachers and pa-
rents, in various towns and cities of the commonwealth of Massachu-
setts, as well as of Rhode Island and Connecticut, and when he could

266 WILLIAM A. ALCOTT.

not in person attend public meetings of the friends of education, lie
often sent an essay to be read before them.

Among the latter was a tract entitled, "Missionaries of Education,"
which was subsequently published, and had a tolerably wide circulation.
But his theory on this point, was evidently half a century in advance
of the age, though it could not fail to recommend itself to all think-
ing men who took the trouble to peruse it, as replete with good sense,
and dictated by a heart expanding with benevolence toward the rising
generation.

In the years 1832 and 1833, he wrote a small volume for young
men, entitled, "The Young Man's Guide," which besides being the
first popular book of this class, that was perfectly reliable, and which
expressed in a lucid manner, and in such a style as not to offend, some
of the physiological dangers of young men, was written throughout
in such a spirit of fatherly kindness, and such a simple style, as to
■win attention and secure an extensive sale. From the avails of this
work, chiefly at four cents a copy, the author in the thirty-sixth year
of his age, paid his debts, now of very long standing, and once more
felt himself a free man. At the end of the year 1833, he was solicited
by S. G. Goodrich to become the acting editor of a little monthly
journal, which he had now been conducting one year, entitled Par-
ley's Magazine. He had the editorial charge of this work four
successive years ; with how much of wisdom he conducted it, the
public have long ago decided. He also edited " The People's Maga-
zine," a semi-monthly work, for one year.

In 1834 came out the " House I Live in." Many of the ideas
had indeed already appeared either in the Juvenile Rambler or else-
where, but here they were incorporated into a volume. This was one
of the most truly original works of the age. It is still po|)ular with
a certain class of people, and deservedly so ; though it never had a
rapid sale. It was re-published in England, and has been used in
some places as a class-book in the schools.

" The Moral Reformer and Teacher in the Human Constitution," a
monthly periodical devoted to the discussion of various topics in the
department of physical education, was begun in 1835, without pecu-
niary means, and with only a single subscriber. It was indorsed how-
ever, by such men as the late talented Dr. John C. Warren ; and had
for nine yeai-s, under the various names of Moral Reformer, Library
of Health, and Teacher of Health, a very considerable influence ;
though it was directly and indirectly a source of much pecuniary loss
to the editor.

In 183G, the "Young Mother" appeared. This was a work on

WILLIAM A. ALCOTT. 267

])liysical education, for the female heads of famihes ; and thouMi not
very original, was a work of much value. The "Young Wife,"
" Young Husband," " Young Woman's Guide," and " Young IIouso-
keeper," all of them possessing various degrees of merit, and written
for the family, followed in the course of two or three years.
So did the "Mother in Her Family," "Living on Small Means," "The
Sabbath School as it should be," "Confessions of a Schoolmaster,"
&c., (fee. "The Mother in Her Family" had a more limited cir-
culation than most of Dr. Alcott's other family books, and perhaps
deserved it. The author's attempt at imagination was an effort for
which his peculiar education had not prepared him. It had merit,
but it had many faults.

It is also worthy of remark that one or two of the forty or fifty
volumes of various sizes which Dr. Alcott has written for the Sabbath
School Libraries of various Christian denominations, though works of
general worth and merit, are slightly open to the same criticism ;
while the greater part of this class of his works are, in every respect,
as juvenile works, of a high order.

His contributions to the periodical pitess, some of which have been
alluded to, many of them to the Recorder, Watchman, and Travel-
ler of Boston, and to the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, have
been almost innumerable. He has preserved copies of more than a
thousand.

Dr. Alcott continued to labor on the Annals of Education, to the
end of its career. After having long aided Mr. Woodbridge, some-
times for pay and sometimes without, and the failure of the latter's
health in 1836, Dr. Alcott became his coadjutor, and then for several
years his successor.

Probably no living individual has devoted more hours, during the
last forty years, to education, especially that of the common school
and the family, than Dr. Alcott. Not many days have passed during
that time, in which he has not performed some labor in that field.
Besides his writings, he has also spoken much and often; giving,
usually, lectures either on hygiene to the scholars,* or on instruction
and discipline, mainly for the benefit of teachers.

* He has related to us the following anecdotes, which may serve for illustrations. Not
long since a little boy came runninjj up to him, saying: •' How do you do. Dr. A 1 When
are you coming to see our school again 1" " Have I ever visited your school 1" was the
reply. '-Oh, yes sir, more than a year ago ; and you said you would try to come again."
"Where is your school ?" Here in West Newton ; don't you remember it 7 You told us
about ihe houses we lived in; and about eating green apples; and I have not eaten a green
apple since." .7^

V.fv

WILLIAM CHANNING WOODBRIDGE

BY W. A. ALCOTT, M. D.

William Channing Woodbridge was born in Medford, Mass.,
December 18tb, 1794. His fatber was Rev. Wiibam Woodbridge,
whose name is identified with the early history of female education
in Connecticut. His mother, Ann Channing, was a sister of the fa-
ther of the late Rev. Dr. W. E. Channing of Boston. She died when
her son was about fourteen ; but his father lived to an advanced age.

The family removed from Medford to Middletown, Connecticut, in
1798, where the father took an active interest in the improvement of
common schools, and organized the first Association of Teachers in
this country. Here in 1799, the son learned his alphabet: and im-
mediately commenced the study of Latin, read Accidence and Corde-
rius. In 1801, the family having removed to Norwich, he studied
Latin there with W. McGee. His father subsequently removed to
Newark, New Jersey, to take charge of a female seminary ; where, in
1 804, we find the son studying the Greek Testament. In 1 806 he stud-
ied mathematics and chemistry; and Homer in 1807. He entered
freshman at Yale Collge, June, 1808, at the age of thiiteen years
and six months. I am careful to give particulars, to show their con-
nection with that feeble constitution which caused him so much suffer-
ing in after life. From the fact of this premature development and
exercise of his mind, and from his own statements and my personal
knowledge, I have no doubt of the existence, at this period, of what
medical men call " latent scrofula ;" nor that the tendency was greatly
aggravated by his premature studies. For though his parents were
wise enough to defer his " alphabet" to his fifth year, yet such was
his aptitude for study, and such his advantages, under his father's
home teaching, and in the sick chamber of his mother, as well as
with other excellent teachers, that we see him entering college at an
immature age, and with a delicacy of constitution which, while it
promised him college honors, did not augur well for his general health.
Perhaps the worst feature of tliis hot-house education, was, after all,
his being so much in liis mother's sick room. Such confinement may,
indeed, have had a good moral influence on him, but must have con-

WILLIAM CHANNING WOODBRIDGE. 269

tributcd not a little to his after physical sufferings, as well as detract-
ed from his general usefulness.

Of Mr. Woodbridge's college life not much is known. His account of
himself during that dangerous period is in some few particulars different
from what might have been expected by those who know the manner
of his early training and his general inoffensiveness. Yet, although
those of his peculiar defective physical organization are, in some re-
spects, unusually exposed to the besetmonts of vice, still their moral
principles and powers are often proportionately forward. Thus it
was with Mr. Woodbridge. He passed the fiery ordeal wholly un-
scathed.

Although it does not clearly appear that at this early stage of his
educational life, he regarded every thing in the shape of amusement,
whether public or private, as absolutely and unqualifiedly sinful ; yet
he certainly had less of sympathy with those of his years, than with
the middle-aged and the old. The sick room education, to which he
liad been so much subjected, may have imparted a premature solidity
to his habits of mind, if not a sluggish cast to those of his body.

Mr. Woodbridge graduated at New Haven, September, 1811, when
he was less than seventeen yeai*s old. The subsequent winter
was spent in Philadelphia, pursuing his studies ; but of their particu-
lar character, at this time, nothing remains except the following ex-
tract from his private journal. " The study of the Bible in the origi-
nal language, enters into my plan of study. My own inclination is
to pursue a course of Biblical criticism, Ecclesiastical History, and
Doctrinal Theology, as my great object ; but to connect it with a re-
vival of my collegiate studies, particularly the Mathematics and Phi-
losophy."

He took the charge of Burlington Academy, in New Jersey, in July,
1812 ; where he remained until November, 1814. Of his success in
teaching we know nothing ; but the bare fact that he commenced at
the immature age of seventeen and a half, and continued here almost
two years and a half, together with his well-known subsequent success in
Hartford and elsewhere, is the best evidence we can desire in his favor.

During the winter of 1814-15, we find him again at New Haven,
attending lectures on Anatomy, Chemistry, Philosophy, &c. His
great desire to perfect his knowledge of these and his other college
studies had probably led to this change, and induced him to defer
teaching at least as a profession, for a few years longer, or, more prob-
ably forever.

Mention is made, in his private journal, of a very interesting revi-
val of religion, during this season, in Yale College ; and we are led to

270 WILLIAM CHANXIXG VVOODBRIDGE.

infer that he was himself one of its subjects, as were also many others
■whose names have since been well and favorably known to the Christ-
ian public ; not a few of whom have gone to their final award. Such,
at least, were Codman, Cornelius, and Nettleton. Mr. Woodbridge
made a public profession of religion by uniting with the college
church, April 2d, 1815. He was now in his twenty-first year.

In September of the same year, he commenced a course of theo-
logical study with Dr. Dwight, then President of Yale College ; where
he remained till the death of his teacher, which happened January
11th, 1817. In July of this year, he entered the Theological Semi-
nary at Princeton, New Jersey. At this time, and probably from the
beginning his studies with Dr. Dwight, (if not indeed from a some-
what earlier period,) he had cherished tlfe hope of being a foreign
missionary. But he had not been long at Princeton before a new field
was opened to him. There was a call on him to join Messrs. Gallaudet
and Le Clerc of Hartford, in conducting the American Asylum for
the Deaf and Dumb, — then in its incipient stage of existence. Under
date of August 30th, 181Y, he thus says of himself:

" During the week, my attention has been almost constantly occu-
pied with the subject of the asylum. At times ray heart as been af-
fected and enlarged. I felt at one time particularly, as if I could
rely on the promise : "Acknowledge Him in all thy ways, and He
shall direct thy paths." I felt as if I could put myself in the hands
of God ; yet I must expect his guidance in. the use of means."

Having occasion to spend a night about this time, in a family
where there was a deaf and dumb girl, the conversation readily turned
on the susceptibility of deaf mutes for receiving instruction. To grati-
fy the anxious parents, as well as to make an important experiment,
he undertook to explain to her the word think, as being equivalent to
seeing absent objects. She seemed much interested, and appeared to
partially understand him.

The question, both with himself and his friends, was now, it w ould
seem, that of the comparative importance of this work of teaciiing,
and that of foreign missions. His views and final decision may be
gathered from the following record in his journal, and deserves our
particular attention.

" This is missionary ground. It is carrying the gospel to those who
can not otherwise obtain it ; yet compared with the opening among
the heathen, the asylum offers a very limited field. This is an imme-
diate, certain field of usefulness. Amission is distant and uncertain."

In short, he concluded to join the asylum, and went to Hartford
for that purpose, December 4th, 1817. The i^upils welcomed him

WILLIAM CIIANNING WOODBRIDGE. 27 1

^vith great cordiality, as they had probably heard of his trials on their
account, and knew his general reputation and character ; and in order
to testify their high gratification, many of them spelled the word
"glad" on their fingers.

In November, 1818, less than a year afterward, he received a press-
ing invitation to become professor of chemistry in William and Mary
College, in Virginia. The salary proposed was much larger than he
had hitherto been accustomed to receive. But after consulting with
the directors of the asylum, and with God and his own conscience, he
declined the appointment. This I regard as a triumph of principle,
which did him much honor. It proved, moreover, to be the turning
l^oint of his life.

Though his duties were sufficiently arduous and numerous at the asy-
lum, he sometimes preached on the Sabbath — in general, I believe,
gratuitously — in various places in and about Hartford. lie had been
licensed to preach by the North Association of Connecticut, February
2d, 1819.

This attempt to go beyond the field which Divine Providence had
opened for him at the asylum, was doubtless an error ; though Mr.
Woodbridge is not the first good man who has broken himself down
by endeavoring to do too much. But he had been admonished al-
ready. Constitutional feebleness, to say nothing of dyspeptic and
nervous tendencies, had been a serious interruption to his theological
studies; and had not been without influence in the decision of the
great question whether or not he should become a foreign missionary.

In the progress of the summer of 1820, his health began to give
way so as in a great measure to unfit him for his duties. It should
be observed, however, that in addition to his ordinary routine of la-
bor in the asylum, and such other extra duties as from his great con-
scientiousness, he may have been led to engage in, some of which I
have already mentioned, it is highly probable he had begun, before
this time, the preparation of his Rudiments of Geography. For
though nothing is said, in his journal, which would lead to this con-
clusion, yet we know that as early as in the beginning of the year
1822 this work was finished, and considerable progress made with the
larger work, the Universal Geography.

They who know any thing about the preparation of an elementary
school-book on a science which they are teaching as enthusiastically
as Mr. Woodbridge taught geography to deaf mutes in Hartford,
will understand the exhaustion which accompanies it, and will not
be surprised that his health materially suffered. In fact he was so
far reduced, that by about the middle of the year 1820, both he and

272 WILLIAM CHANNING WOODBRIDGE.

his friends were much alarmed for his safety ; and, together with his
medical counselors, were urging a voyage to Europe, as the most prob-
able means of his restoration. In October, 1820, he accordingly
sailed for the south of Europe. A gentleman who accompanied him
on this voyage, thus says of him :

" In the intervals of a severe and depressing dyspeptic disorder, he
displayed his devotion to the conscientious and philanthropic course
which he afterward adopted, in the spirit of a missionary ; often di-
recting conversation to subjects which he afterward prosecuted to a
great degree. He was one of the first passengers then known, who
had attempted to practice religious services at sea. Among others
of his experiments that might be mentioned, while crossing from Gib-
raltar to Algesiras, he once engaged a motley company of Spaniards,
Moors, (fee, in an animated and interesting conversation in the lan-
guage of natural signs."

In this first voyage to Europe, and in efforts there for the recov-
ery of his health, he spent about eight months. During this time
he was in Palermo, Naples, Leghorn, Rome, and other Italian
cities ; and although amid scenes of war and confusion, he not only
gained in health, but accumulated much geographical knowledge ; an
object which he had no doubt kept in view from the very first concep-
tion of the journey.

Mr. Woodbridge returned to Hartford July 4th, 1821, with his
health partially restored. The autumn appears to have been spent in
perfecting his Rudiments of Geography, and in completing the Uni-
versal Geography ; which last was published in ] 824. To these two
great works he devoted his whole physical and mental energies for
more than two years.

The friends of education who read this sketch, hardly need be told
that up to this period, geography as a science, had received but little
attention in the public schools of New England ; with the exception of
a few more favored of the larger schools, spelling, reading, and writ-
ing, were nearly all the branches that received special attention. A
little arithmetic was taught here and there, but even this was for the
most part crowded into the evening. The master, as parents sup-
posed, had no time for it by day, without interfering with his other
studies ; and they sometimes formally and sagely voted '' cyphering"
out of the school. As for geography, some few schools studied Morse ;
a few others used as a sort of reading book, Nathaniel D wight's
" System of Geography," which was arranged in the form of question
and answer. The vast majority, however, paid no attention what-
ever to the subject.

WILLIAM CIIANNING WOODBRIDGE. 273

But, Mr. Woodbridge, while instructing the deaf mutes at Hartford,
and perhaps yet earher had hit upon an improved plan of teaching,
which is now too well known, as incorporated into most of our school ge-
ographies, to need description. A similar method, had also been pursued
by Mrs. Emma Willard of the Troy Female Seminary. Both these
teachers were preparing their plans of teaching for publication, un-
known to each other ; but Mrs. Willard was at length induced to
merge her own work in that of Mr. Woodbridge.

Woodbridge & AVillard's Geographies produced a revolution in the
method of teaching this useful science, wherever it had been taught
before ; and by their simple and interesting system of classification,
were a means of introducing this science in many schools where it
had not then been taught. And if others have reaped a large
measure of the pecuniary emolument to which these authors seem to
have been justly entitled, it is a thing by no means new or unheard
of. It is but the fate of most discoverers. Some men, it is true, meet
it with more resolution than others, according, in fiict, to their various
force of bodily constitution. Yet if Columbus, with his gigantic mental
and physical energies, was so broken down by it, that his hair was
white at thirty years of age, it should hardly excite surprise in any
who know how feeble Mr. Woodbridge was at that time to learn,
that his health was not a httle impaired by the ill treatment which
he received at the hands of his cotemporaries. It is certainly true
that some of the works which were regarded by many as being stolen
from Woodbridge & Willard, contained sundry improvements, but
this was to have been expected. It must be a consolation, however^
to his friends, at the present day, to know that his works still have an
existence, and are regarded by not a few teachers, as preferable to any
of their successors. It is also a still greater consolation to believe
that the study and preparation of these works, led to his subsequent
efforts in educational improvement.

In April, 1824, he thus writes: "My geography is nearly com-
pleted, and it becomes a serious question what course I shall now
pursue." Unfitted as he was by ill health for teaching and the pul-
pit, it is not to be wondered at that such a question should arise in his
mind ; nor that he should think seriously of visiting England, Scot-
land, France, Germany, and Switzerland, with the view of improving
himself in the science of general education, and particularly in his
favorite department, that of geography.

It was not so common in those days to try to run av/ay from dys-

psia as it now is ; and yet such things had occasionally been done.

Mr. Woodbridge's partial success in visiting the south of Europe, had

R

274 WILLIAM CHANNING WOODBRIDGE.

encouraged him, and raised the hopes of his medical advisers. They
recommended another European voyage. Their prescription was not
•without its charms. It would give him a fine opportunity, among
other things, to hold converse with many wise men, not only in Great
Britain, but on the continent. It would also enable him to visit
schools, and perfect himself in the great work of educational reform
which it is believed he had already dared to meditate.

The first year of his absence, during which his health was compar-
atively good, was spent in arranging for the publication of his small
geography in London, and in securing means of supporting himself;
he also succeeded in introducing improvements into the instruc-
tion of two of the deaf and dumb institutions of England. In the
autumn of 1825, a relapse into ill health obliged him to seek south-
ern Europe. Here he grew strong again ; and besides traveling
again in France and Italy, he spent three months at Hofwyl, by invi-
tation of M. de Fellenberg, as visitor and instructor. Here his health
failed once more, and he went to Paris, January 1827, to correct a
new edition of his large geography. He accomplished this work with
some difficulty, owing to his declining strength. He gradually gave
up the use of animal food, and adopted a spare diet almost entirely
farinaceous. In October he went to Rome for the winter, traveling
very slowly, and being forced by an attack of lumbago to stop at a
private hospital at Lyons, where he grew comparatively well again,
and proceeded to Rome in December. In July of 1828, he proceed-
ed again to Switzerland, where he remained at Hofwyl, studying the
system of Pestalozzi, until May, 1829. He then went to Frankfort,
remained there studying the school institutions of southern Germany
until July, proceeded to Brussels to investigate Jacotot's system, and
reached Paris at the beginning of August, much better than when he
had departed thence.

In the autumn of 1829 he sailed from Havre for New York; hav-
ing been the first American geographer to travel abroad for the sake
of collecting materials to enrich his works ; and having made many
valuable acquaintances both in England and on the continent, includ-
ing Lord Brougham, Lady Byron, Dr. Chalmers, Dr. Andrew Thomp-
son, M. de Fellenberg, Baron Humboldt, Pestalozzi, <fec.

Besides the labor which he bestowed upon his geographical inves-
tigations, he was also intent upon obtaining such a knowledge of the
general state of education as would enable him to devote himself to
its improvements at home, amid a multitude of difficulties both on
account of ill health, and a want of pecuniary resources, such as would
liave deterred and discouraged most men.

WILLIAM CIIANNING WOODBRIDGE. 275

Soon after liis return to tbis country, he visited Hartford, for the
purpose of rousing the attention of such men as the Rev. Mr. Gallau-
det, Hon. Henry L. Ellsworth. Dr. John L. Comstock, and the teach-
ers of the American Asylum, to the great importance of improving
the condition of education, especially common education, in this coun-
try. Indeed, from various remarks made by him soon after I first met
him, in the spring of 1830, 1 am inclined to the opinion that he was
not wholly without the hope of enlisting the friends of education at
the asylum and elsewhere, in a scheme to establish a school for teach-
ers in Hartford ; and perhaps of finding among the men of wealth
in that city a second Fellenberg. But his ill health was an insur-
mountable barrier to any decisive results, as well as to that speedy
return to Europe, which he had been meditating. The latter project
he at length wholly relinquished. He probably found the improve-
ment of his geographies, in order to keep pace with the advances of
the science, would be hkely to require all his bodily and mental ener-
gies, as well as all his pecuniary resources.

For educational eftbrts, however, the time was interesting and
auspicious. During Mr. Woodbridge's absence in Europe, beginning
with about the year 1825, that movement had arisen among the
friends of education in the United States, of which Mr. Gallaudet's
newspaper articles advocating special training for common school
teachers ; the early efibrts of Hawley Olmstead, Rev. Samuel J. May,
Hon. R. M. Sherman, A. F. Wilcox, Josiah Holbrook, A. Bron-
son Alcott, and William A. Alcott, in Connecticut: the organi-
zation of the Hartford Society for the Improvement of Common
Schools ; the early writings of James G. Carter, Rev. S. R. Hall, and
others in Massachusetts ; and the publication of the American Jour-
nal of Education, by William Russell, were parts and active stimu-
lants.

The Society for the Improvement of Common Schools held seve-
ral meetings at Hartford and New Haven, soon after Mr. Wood-
bridge's return ; and so far as his health permitted, he exerted in
them an active influence. At some of these meetings, it fell to the
lot of the writer of this article to lecture on improvements in the con-
struction of school houses, and kindred topics. The lecture on school
houses was afterward sent to the American Institute of Instruction, and
in 1 830 a prize was awarded to it. The interest Mr. Woodbridge took
in the subject and in the manner of treating it, resulted in an intimate
acquaintance, and in a conjunction as friends of the same cause.

Another fact deserves to be mentioned. It has already been stated
that the father of Mr. Woodbridcre was a teacher. He was connect-

276 WILLIAM CHANMNG WOODBRIDGE.

cd with several of the earliest female schools in New England and
New Jersey. Indeed, he continued a teacher for fifty years of his life-
time, and died in the harness, as is believed, from excessive labora
both in school and in the pulpit, when he was between seventy and
eighty years of age. But what is most to our present purpose is
the fact that he was President of the first School Association, in Mid-
dlesex county, Connecticut, as early as the year 1799; the object of
which was the accomplishment of the same ends at which his son
and his associates were aiming thirty years later. It is not needful
to insist, in this case, on the doctrine of the hereditary descent of
mental and moral qualities ; but it is certainly a singular coincidence.
The interest which very naturally attaches to this fact is increased
when it is understood that at the very juncture of which I am now
speaking, the elder Mr. Woodbridge joined his son at Hartford, and
became, for a considerable time a fellow laborer in a cause which he
still loved with all his youthful ardor.

Our united and separated efforts in behalf of education had enlist-
ed a good deal of newspaper influence in this cause, especially at
Hartford. But having become fatigued with this form of labor, I
made known to Mr. Woodbridge my intention of establishing a pe-
riodical at Hartford, to be devoted to the cause that so much engrossed
our attention. But there were difficulties in the way ; and in the
meantime Mr. Woodbridge purchased the American Journal of Edu-
cation at Boston, changed the name to Annals of Education, and with
the aid of his father and myself, and the promise of other occasional
assistance, proceeded to act as its editor. This was in August, 1831.
Later in the year he removed to Boston, whither he was soon fol-
lowed by his associates.

No pains or expense were spared by Mr. Woodbridge or his asso-
ciates, to render the Annals the one thing needful to the friends of
education, especially to teachers. During the first and second years
of its existence, he developed, in a clear, careful, and faithful man-
ner, the whole system of Fellenberg ; together with such other sys-
tems of distinguished European educators as were meritorious, partic-
ularly those of Pestalozzi at Yverdun, and Prof. Jacotot of Louvaiu ;
while his associates and contributors furnished most of the other ar-
ticles. Physical education and methods of instruction, whether prac-
tical lessons, reviews, notices, &c., fell largely to the share of the
writer.

Not only the Annals of Education, but the Juvenile Rambler, was
started by Mr. Woodbridge, about the end of the year 1831, on his
arrival at Boston. The last was a small weekly newspaper for chil-

WILLIAM CnANNING WOODDRIDGE. '^77

dren, designed not only for the family, but for the school-room, and
even as a class-book for reading exercises. For a little while and
in particular localities, it was exceedingly popular. A few large
schools received it by hundreds ; and in one or two it became a sub-
stitute for all other reading books. But it was not very long lived.
Its editors, — who' had charge of it practically, — found their duties
too arduous, and withal so poorly rewarded, that after the lapse of
two years they were obliged to abandon it, and concentrate their in-
fluence on the "Annals."

It should also be remembered that during the first years of the
"Annals," a weekly paper for teachei*s, entitled the Education Report-
er "was issued for a time, by Rev. Asa Rand. But this, too, proving
unprofitable, and being supposed to conflict with the Annals, was at
length purchased by Mr. Woodbridge, and after being published by
him for some time, in an independent form, was merged in the monthly
journal.

Besides, the original cost of the list of subscribers was a heavy bill
of expense. For, though it was well received by the teachers of
private seminaries and a few professional men, who respected the zeal,
talent, and philanthropy of the editor, yet a large proportion of the
teachers of the district schools regarded it as too high — or rather too
learned for them ; besides they thought they could hardly spare three
dollars a year of their scanty wages for twelve prosy numbers of a
journal of education. The result was, therefore, that though every
body praised the work, nearly every body excused themselves from
taking it, especially those who most needed its assistance.

But Mr. Woodbridge, did not shrink from the responsibilities he
had incurred on account of the difficulties. He devoted himself to
his task Avith all the energy which dyspepsia would permit, though
at the end of every year deeply in debt.

He continued the Annals to the close of 183G, when failing health
compelled him to make a third voyage to Europe. He embarked in
October, and for two years continued to act as foreign editor. After
that time, except for an occasional contribution, the work was wholly
in the hands of the writer. Mr. Woodbridge's pecuniary sacrifices
for the Annals, during the six years and a half of its life, amounted
to many thousand dollars.

In November, 1832, he had married Miss Reed, an assistant
in Miss Beecher's school at Hartford ; whose zeal for education was
scarcely exceeded by his own, and who was an excellent helper to
him in the cause. But her health was bad ; and after joining him

278 WILLIAM CHANNING WOOD BRIDGE.

in Europe, she died, at Frankfort, in 1840, leaving two eliildren, a
son and daugliter.

Mr. Woodbridge's illness prevented him from making the educa-
tional researches in Europe which he had designed ; and after spend-
ing the winter of 1840-41 at Berlin, he returned home in October,
1841. The next three winters he passed at Santa Cruz; but with
steadily declining health. At his final return in 1844, it was evident
that he was fast failinsf, and his business eno;ao-ements were now made
so as to provide for a speedy departure. He made a short experi-
ment of the water cure and homeopathy at Brattleboro, but with no
relief, his bodily powers being too low to rally ; and in returning
to Boston, entered Dr. Durkee's institution, but gradually grew
worse, and died there, in November, 1845. His last days, and his
death, were peaceful ; though his feebleness prevented much conver-
sation, and he scarcely said more to friends who visited him, than to
remark that he supposed they met for the last time.

Although the actual results of Mr. Woodbridge's labors have been
great, yet in making an estimate of him and of his work, we shall
find him entitled to the credit of doing very much, under very great
discouragement, if not of accomplishing results in themselves, abso-
lutely vast and astonishing.

His mental powers were great. Both his intuitive perception of
principles, and his faculty of methodically arranging facts, were rapid
and thorough ; and his ability to give clear expositions of the rela-
tions, bearings, and consequences of both, was remarkable. His
moral endowments were, perhaps, still more eminent. His honesty,
both in pecuniary matters, and in stating facts and searching authori-
ties, was unbendingly rigid ; his father was accustomed to say that
in " extra corrections," made to embody the latest or most accurate
matter, on his geographies alone, he had expended a good estate.
lie was at once frugal almost to parsimony in his personal expenditures,
and liberal to nobility in assisting the educational or other benevolent
enterprises in which he was interested. Except a bare support for
his aged father, and a still more slender one for himself and family,
he was uniformly accustomed to devote to the perfecting of the An-
nals of Education, irrespective of mere stipulations with subscribers,
Lis whole income, from whatever source.

His aspirations, indeed, both intellectual and moral, were of the
very highest order. It was the incessant prostration of his efforts by
the most wretched and irritating of all diseases, dyspepsia, probably
complicated with scrofula, and certainly with great nervous weakness,
which prevented him from realizing those aspirations, at least to a de-

WILLIAM CIIANNING WOODBRIDGE. oyj)

gree which would have placed his name very high on the list of bene-
factors to liis race. This physical incapacity was in part constitu-
tional, and was doubtless aggravated by early ill training. And it
was this which forced him to relinquish one plan after another,
which rendered him often a severe suflerer from small self-indulgences,
which made him irritable in conversation, and w^hich, in connection
Vith a constitutional* diffidence, and yet an unsparing honesty in ex-
pressing opinions when driven to do so, made him often seem posi-
tive or even rude in receiving or opposing the views of others.

He was always a poor man, and was too liberal in giving what
came to his hand, to the objects of his life, ever to escape from the
vexations and discomforts of poverty.

Yet in spite of all he accomplished much. How much influence
his laboi-s had in producing those educational changes which have
been taking place in this country ever since, is not easy to say;
but undoubtedly a large share of what we deem educational im-
provement, must be set to the credit of him and his associates. A
writer of his obituary, in the " Express" of New York — the only no-
tice of him we have ever seen — by one who well knew his whole
history, thus speaks :

" With his return from his first foreign travels, we may date the
commencement of the operations for the improvement of common
schools in this country. For though he had before aroused much in-
terest in Baron Fellenberg's institution at Hofwyl, in Switzerland, by
the publication of a series of letters written on the spot, and which
contained almost every thing that our countrymen have ever read on
that subject, no considerable attempt was made to produce any gene-
ral cooperation for the bene6t of common education, until he made
known his plans and commenced his operations.

'' The American Annals of Education, which he conducted at Bos-
ton for a series of years, under many difficulties, abounded in facts
and suggestions of the soundest kind ; v^'hich were the groundwork
as well as the exciting cause of the movements successfully made by
the legislatures of different states, and the friends of education who
gradually arose in all quarters of the country. The conventions of
teachers and others, in counties and larger districts, owed their plans
and first impulses, in a great measure to Mr. Woodbridge, as did
the innumerable lyceums and other popular literary societies. He
was one of the first to foresee popular opportunities to act in Massa-
chusetts for the advantageous distribution of the money appropriated
to the schools, and the most energetic, in taking measures for that
purpose. At every meeting held for the promotion of this flivorito

280 WILLIAM CHANNING WOODBRIDGE.

cause, lie was personally present or represented by some valuable
essay or other communication ; and most of the enlightened and lib-
eral proposals offered, came from him or received his cordial support.
He wrote the first letter on popular education in music, and excited
and aided Messrs. Mason & Son to attempt the introduction of that
important science and art on modern principles. It is needless to re-
mark on the extent to which their example has ^ince been followed'

" Mr. Woodbridge moved the first resolution ever oflTered, recom-
mending the study of the Bible as a classic. The first Literary Con-
vention in New York placed him at the head of a committee on that
subject ; and he not only drew up, but gratuitously published and
widely circulated the report, which embraces, in a most distinct and
forcible manner the grand arguments in favor of that object, in a
style which no man can read without admiration. No writer before
or since has exceeded it ; and in all the discussions which have taken
place, it would be difficult to discover any new thought or argu-
ment."

While thus engaged, through years of ill health, and all the diflS-
culties and discouragements arising from very limited pecuniary
means, Mr. Woodbridge not only found strength to perform numerous
journeys, to carry on an extensive correspondence, to hold innumera-
ble interviews with intelligent persons, and to devote money with a
liberal hand for the public benefit, but his heart and hand were ever
open at the calls of philanthropy. Few men, it is believed, have ever
been more noble in giving, in proportion to their means.

He was as influential as any one man, in awakening and main-
taining that interest in the cause of education generally, which arose
in Massachusetts between the years 1830 and 1840. He was an effi-
cient agent in drawing public attention to the necessity of normal
schools. He was, if not the very first, one of the earliest writers in favor
of the introduction of the studies of physiology and vocal music, into
our schools. He drew from behind the counter of a country store,
and introduced into the higher sphere in which he has done so great
and useful a work, the celebrated Lowell Mason ; a service which
alone would have made him a public benefactor. His letters in ex-
planation of the systems and institutions of Fellenberg, besides being
the first introduction, to America, of those men and their works and
principles, are distinguished for clearness of style and completeness of
analysis and exposition.

jcNaPBYJoar santaut-i'/jjl^'

/fK^-^^!^^ ^^^

WALTER R. JOH.^f

b \j :i .

•« born in Leominster, M^iss., in
^'^^a farmer of strong t

youth nt the break.

(gle. His mother
- minister of L :.

-oed ia ; .<, from Rev. Jo-.

j -...^cat of
^* '^^'^'' is binh. He

tual

good hcf'Jih.
•.; and a
. ud the u
f these, his ;

Ministry, and some foreign languages,
.porting himself, and determined r.
pecuniary obliiiatlons, he spent hi^
'3. He graduated

282 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

offer to become preceptor, as it was then called, of Framingham
Academy.

Here he remained a year, laboring energetically in his voca-
tion, and devoting his leisure hours to the sedulous study of law
and belles lettres, at the end of which period he accepted a pro-
posal to take charge of a small classical school in Salem, intended
to prepare gentlemen's sons for college or business.

Mr. Johnson deeply appreciated and enjoyed the excellent soci-
ety and rare literary advantages of his position at Salem, and he
made good use of the improved opportunities which he found
there for advancement in his knowledge of law, as also in science
and general literature. He always considered intercourse with
great minds a most powerful stimulus to his intellectual progress,
and took great pleasure in his acquaintance with several eminent
scientific men of Salem, including the venerable Nathaniel Bow-
ditch. Under such influences, his predilections for the study of
natural science received a new impulse, and he made large
advances into its vast domains, subsequently the chief field of his
labors and source of his reputation.

He was a ready writer, and a frequent contributor to the jour-
nals of the day, whose columns were always open to him. He
occasionally wrote a sonnet or song, but most of his articles were
of a grave and solid character. He excelled also in epistolary
composition, and his letters were much valued by their recipients.
His taste in literature was correct, and cultivated by study ; and
having a clear, sonorous, and flexible voice, and an excellent elo-
cution, he loved oratory, and was successful in it. He was often
desired to speak in public, and the anniversary of the Fourth of
July especially, seldom failed to call forth from him either an
oration or a poem.

Mr. Johnson had before this time become deeply interested in
the cause of education, at large. It afforded, as he believed, the
only sure foundation of a safe and prosperous republic; the only
guarantee against poverty, crime, and anarchy. As this interest
increased, he relaxed his attention to law, and bestowed more time
upon an extended course of reading bearing upon the subject of
education ; undertakmg to gather from the best works relating to
it, from the time of Bacon to his own, whatever might with advan-
tags be applied to the studies of American youth. The benefits
derived from these investigations appeared in all the educational
efforts of his after years, as teacher, essayist, lecturer, experimen-
ter, and m preparation of text-books.

WALTER R JOHNSON. 283

He remained in Salem but little more than a year, having been
requested by the trustees of Germantovvn Academy, Penn., to
become principal of that Institution, one of the most prominent in
the state, originally endowed by it, and further enriched by private
liberality. His acceptance of this offer was in part determined
by a desire of more extended knowledge of the world ; for hitherto
he had never been outside of his native state.

The site of Germantown Academy was near the main street of
Germantown, upon a lane leading away from it. The locality
was salubrious and agreeable, and the buildings were sur-
rounded by play-grounds and gardens, were substantial and
respectable in appearance, sufficiently capacious, and included a
library, philosophical and chemical apparatus, and comfortable
dwellings for the principal and boarding scholars. Evidently
nothing more was needed to make the institution equal to any in
the middle or northern states in excellence or celebrity, except
the appreciation of a liberal and vigorous system of instruction
and discipline. A short time, however, sufficed to show Mr.
Johnson, just come from tlie comparatively strict and thorough
training of New England schools, that the public mind in
Pennsylvania was far behind the age in the conception of what
constituted a good education, and in appreciation of its value ;
and that, at least in the interior, far greater importance was
attached to the development of soil and of animals, than of the
minds of the young

Mr. Johnson was not long in perceiving that his principal field
of labor here would be outside the walls of the Academy ; and
that to accomplish anything creditable to himself, or largely bene-
ficial to his pupils or the cause of education at large, it would be
indispensable to arouse the attention, convince the reason, and
secure the co-operation of the trustees of the institution, and also
of parents and guardians. A prevailing laxity of parental disci-
pline and apathy on the subject of education, were among the
discouraging obstacles to be surmounted, requiring long and pa-
tient efTort, and for striving with which he had little taste or incli-
nation. But he also discovered that he could count upon the
sympathy and intelligent co-operation of many liberal and culti-
vated persons, both in attempts to introduce special improvements
and in an endeavor to establish a common school <=«ystem which
should be commensurate with the wealth and influence of Penn-
sylvania.

In view of the wide field of effort which thus opened before

284 WALTER R JCHNSON.

him, and of the manifest increase of the influence of his own
wishes respecting the management of the seminary, he yielded,
after some hesitation, to the wishes of the trustees, and continued
at the head of the Academy after the expiration of the year for
which he at first engaged. Under his management, the reputa-
tion and prosperity of the institution increased, and its classes
were well filled. His own position became at the same time more
pleasant, as he became better and more extensively known. His
genial disposition found much to enjoy in the refined society to
which he had access in Germantown and Philadelphia ; he was
invited to the well known " Wistar parties ; " and his fondness
for literature and science found much gratification from intercourse
with the many men of eminence in those departments whom he
thus met. He also greatly enjoyed the privileges offered by the
Academy of Natural Sciences, and the Philosophical Society.

Giving up, at least for the present, and not without reluctance,
his plan of returning to his native state and studying law at Cam-
bridge, Mr. Johnson now turned his attention to the enterprise of
educational reform in Pennsylvania, in co-operation with the com-
pany of benevolent and energetic men who at that period set
themselves to awaken the state from her indifference to the mental
and moral condition and prospects of her youth. Devoting to this
purpose whatever time could be spared from the duties of the
Academy, he traveled through the state in various directions,
acquainting himself with the character, condition, and wants of
the inhabitants, and gathering information and statistics; and
visited Harrisburg to become personally familiar with the legisla-
tors and rulers of the state. The results of these investigations
he used at home, in elaborating those writings in the tlieory and
practice of education and instruction, which he published monthly
in the newspapers of that day, which attracted much notice and
were widely read and widely influential. Their publication was
commenced in ' The Commonwealth," at Harrisburg, in 1822 ;
with a series of thirteen essays on education, which embodied his
general opinions on common schools, and on the establishment of
a system in Pennsylvania. Another series of six essays on the
same subject appeared in the Journal of the Franklin Institute,
in 1823.

Among the pamphlets issued by him in 1825, embracing the
views which he had puhJisiied originally in the columns of a news-
paper, was that entitled ^''Observations on the Improvemejit of Sem-
inaries of Learning in the United States, 4*c.," in which he advo-

WALTER R. JOHNSON. 285

cated the immediate establishment of " Schools for Teachers,- '' in
this particular coinciding with the views put forth at the same
time by Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet in Connecticut, James G.
Carter in Massachusetts, and President Lindsley in Tennessee.

These inquiries and efforts Mr. Johnson continued for a number
of years, and had the satisfaction of believing that he had been
an influential assistant in procuring the passage of the law of
1834, which gave Pennsylvania a general system of public
schools, and virtually proved the winning of the long contest with
ignorance and prejudice. During the long series of years while
this law may be said to have been maturing, not less than two
hundred and twenty public acts on education had been passed by
the legislature, but none of them, until this, was upon a basis broad
and liberal enough to be satisfactory to the friends of education,
or practical in its results. Much time and money had been
spent in procuring this course of legislation, various isolated col-
leges, academies, &c., had been benefited, and a number of acts
had been passed to establish public schools exclusively for the
poor ; a species of benefaction which that class, to its credit, was
too independent to accept.

In the autumn of 1823, feeling that his position and prospects
justified the step, Mr. Johnson united himself in marriage with the
eldest daughter of Dr. Loth. Donaldson, of Medfield, Mass., with
whom he lived until his death, in unbroken happiness and affec-
tion. Upon bringing home his wife, he resumed his academical
duties with undiminished ardor, and was now enabled to offer
much greater advantages than before to such pupils as were placed
in his family and under his entire supervision.

Although faithful and successful in the labors of the position he
had assumed, its numerous and often vexatious duties, and the
unvarying routine of school duties, were not in harmony with Mr.
Johnson's tastes, nor with his mental activity and love of positive
progress in knowledge ; and accordingly, when after a time an
opportunity was presented him to enter upon a course of labor
requiring his favorite investigations and discussions in natural
science, he gladly embraced it. This opportunity Avas offered by
the Franklin Institute, then a young but vigorous and efficient
organization, and about establishing a High School, with an espe-
cial design of affording the industrial classes cheap instruction in
sciences and arts. The committee appointed to carry this design
into execution, requested Mr. Johnson to lay out a system of
instruction for the institution, which he did ; and being further

286 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

invited to carry his own plans into operation under tlie auspices of
the Institute, he resigned his place at Gcrmantown and removed
with his family to Philadelphia in 182G. The Hii^di School was
soon organized, and went into operation with a large class of
pupils, with a comprehensive course of instruction, designed to
prepare either for a collegiate course, professional studies, or busi-
ness life.

The monitorial system was introduced into the school, as eco-
nomical and also as pre-eminently available, under the circum-
stances, both for teachers and pupils. The third annual report,
in describing the number of pupils and their studies, says,
" The High School is in complete operation with its full comple-
ment of three hundred and four. Of these three hundred study
the English language, one hundred and fifty-three the French,
one hundred and five the Latin, fifty-five Greek, forty-five Span-
ish, twenty German, two hundred and forty geography, three
hundred elocution, two hundred and thirty-one linear drawing,
and all arithmetic or some branch of mathematics." The system
of Dr. Marsais was adopted in the study of foreign languages ;
and manuals were prepared for Greek by Mr. Johnson, for Latin
by Mr. Walker, and for French by Mr. Bolman, which were
used with success. Having given much attention to Greek, Mr.
Johnson believed it an error to teach it as a dead language, but
that modern Greek was substantially the same as the Greek of
the days of Homer, and a living language, and as such he taught
it. In these views he was sustained by means of some of the
most distinguished Greek scholars of our own country, and by
some of the most intelligent native Greeks who have written on
the subject. Mr. Johnson found that his system gave his pupils a
taste and fondness for a language generally esteemed a most diffi-
cult and discouraging one ; and in the short period during which
they were under his instruction, many of them became able to
read with ease, intelligence and propriety, the poetry of Sophocles
and of Homer.

The school fully answered the design of its founders, afTording
at the low price of twenty-eight dollars a year, instruction in all
studies which it could ordinarily be desired to follow, and enabling
those of narrow means to acquire an education of a grade before
attainable only by the wealthy. Encouraged by this success, the
Institute proceeded to enlarge their means of diffusing knowledge
by establishing professorships in several branches of science and
art, the incumbents of which were to prepare and deliver an

WALTER R JOUNSON, 287

annual course of lectures before the members of the Institute and
their families. Mr. Johnson was appointed to the chair of mechan-
ics and natural philosophy — a department for which he was pecul-
iarly fitted, and which had always been a favorite witii him. It
was therefore with the zeal both of duty and pleasure tliat he
entered upon investigations in which he took the utmost delight,
but which he had never before been able to pursue far without
infringing upon the time and strength due to his regular employ-
ments. With the purpose both of increasing the interest and
usefulness of his lectures, and of providing for himself the means
of experiment, he provided an extensive mechanical and philo-
sophical apparatus. The classes included both sexes, and many
adults, and were numerous and uniformly interested and attentive
during the many succeeding seasons when his lectures were given.

Although actively engaged in the educational department of the
Franklin Institute, Mr. Johnson was always ready to co-operate in
promoting its general objects through other channels. He con-
tributed to their Journal, took part in their deliberative and con-
versational meetings, engaged in its discussions of questions of
practical science, and prosecuted with reference to it, either alone
or with others» in elaborate researches on subjects of great impor-
tance to the arts and to mankind. Nor were his labors limited to
the objects of the Institute. The Academy of Natural Sciences
of Philadelphia had elected him a member soon after his removal
to the city, and he took a place among its working men of science,
and was in the habit of contributing to its collection, especially
such minerals and fossils as he could gather during his journeys
or geological explorations in the state. He was a constant attend-
ant at their weekly meetings, and frequently presided at them, and
was for some time corresponding secretary. Papers by him are
also numerously scattered through their published proceedings,
for the many years of his residence in Philadelphia. It is
scarcely necessary to add that his personal and social relations to
his contemporaries of the Institute and the Academy were invari.
ably most pleasant.

Mr. Johnson's official connection with the Franklin Institute
continued for more than ten years. At the end of that time the
High School, rendered superfluous by the adoption of a general
school system, was given up, though the lectures were continued.
During the whole period, besides discharging his oflicial duties,
Mr. Johnson was actively engaged in researches in physical
science, often with a direct bearing on the arts and practical busi-

288 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

ness ; and, it is believed, with no small result in contributions to
the advancement of human knowledge. Many of his most impor-
tant scientific papers, and several on education, were during the
same period published in the scientific journals of the day.

Mr. Johnson was not content with merely mastering all already
known of any department to which his attention was turned, but
was accustomed to devote uncommon powers of patient investiga-
tion, careful analysis, and logical deduction, to the endeavor to
discover new facts or to establish new principles. He possessed
great quickness in comprehending even the most complicated
mechanical devices, and suffered no new machine which came
under his observation to escape the thorough understanding of its
operations and uses. This aptitude was of singular advantage
to him in the many elaborate investigations in physics which he
afterwards pursued, in devising new apparatus or combinations of
machinery.

Among the earliest and most important of these investigations
was a series of experiments to determine the strength of materi-
als, and the best construction of steam boilers. These were set
on foot by the Franklin Institute, about the year 1830, and origin-
ated in a benevolent desire to prevent the misery arising from the
frequency of steamboat explosions. The Institute appointed a
committee of seventeen to carry out a systematic examination of
the whole subject, whose operations resulted in a wide course of
investigation, occupying many of the best scientific minds of the
country for several years. A sub-committee of three, Mr. John-
son, Mr. Reeves, and Prof. Bache, was entrusted with that branch
of the inquiry relating to the strength of materials. They sent
circulars tliroughout the United States and abroad, requesting
facts on the subject, and materials used in the manufacture of
steam-boilers, to be submitted to scientific tests. The answers
received showed a deep and general interest in the subjipct ; and
in a few months the committee were in possession of abundant
facts for the further prosecution of their inquiries. The Secretary
of the Navy, appreciating the importance of these researches,
recommended their extension, and furnished the funds necessary
for incidental expenses.

This branch of the inquiry was regarded as of paramount
importance, and the committee applied themselves to it with cor-
responding zeal, devoting to it- all the time which they could save
from their ordinary occupations, for three or four years. Their
report appeared in 1837, in 289 octavo pages, and included a

WALTER R. JOUNSON. 289

minute detail of all tiieir experiments, verified and illustrated by-
tables and plates.

While conducting these experiments, and others on steam, heat,
electricity, magnetism, &c., Mr. Johnson observed many phenom-
ena suggestive of new physical laws ; which, after verification,
if of practical utility, he was accustomed to publish in some intel.
ligible form. Of these discoveries, one of the most important
was, that iron increases in strength, after being subjected to a pow-
erful tension at an increased temperature, in the proportion of
from 18 to 20 per cent., with a gain in length of from 6 to 8
per cent. ; a law verified by numerous experiments.

The importance of this discovery was regarded as great, espe-
cially with reference to marine equipments, where, as in cables,
&c., the utmost possible strength is required with the least weight.
Having devised a mode for the practical application of his discov-
ery, Mr. Johnson submitted his scheme to Judge Upshur, then
Secretary of the Navy, always of liberal sentiments in relation
to scientific improvements, and who appreciated the value of this,
so far as to direct a proving machine then about being furnished
for the navy yard at Washington, to be constructed under Mr.
Johnson's directions, in such a manner as to admit the application
of his improvement to chain cables and to examine its feasibility.
The result justified all that had been claimed for thermo-tension,
but it was found that some modifications in the usual form of the
links of chain cables would be necessary in order to admit its
successful application to them. In a letter written about this time
Mr. Johnson says, " The experiments on chains and bars of iron,
hot and cold, are continued daily. I am making efforts to intro-
duce some improvements in the mode of fashioning the links of
chains and their studs. The prejudice in regard to old habits
has to be met by persevering efforts to prove incontestably the su-
periority of the forms which I have proposed to substitute. E very-
step which 1 take batters down some obstinate prejudice and
opens an easier and easier path to the success of my proposals. In
the form of the studs and cross-stays of links, I have already
effected a change, and as I have four or five times in succession
proved that the new form of link is itself stronger and more endur-
ing than the old one, I have little doubt that it will also gain the
ascendency."

These experiments were never completed. They were at first
discontinued in obedience to an order from the department to sus-
pend all operations under the head of general increase, and subse-

290 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

quent imperative duties elsewhere, and changes of administration,
prevented them from being resumed.

In the summer of 1836, Mr. Johnson quitted for a time the
arduous occupations of the laboratory, the lecture room, and the
study, for a more genial and healthful sphere of inquiry among
the minerals and fjssils of the coal formations of the Alleghany
mountains, and of the region of the west branch of the Susque-
hanna.

In geology, comparatively a new science, and in its related
pursuits, Mr. Johnson's attainments had hitherto been bounded by
what was already known. He now, however, proposed to himself
the pleasant task of independent investigation, with the hope of
himself adding something to the extent of human knowledge.
Having already made many investigations on the special depart-
ment of the properties of iron and coal, he felt peculiar interest
in studying their features in their native forms and localities. On
this and subsequent occasions, indeed, he visited most of the coal
fields of any note, of our own country, of Nova Scotia, and of
Wales and some other parts of Europe. He also examined
extensively the iron districts, studying the different ores and their
localities, and collecting samples for future analysis. Some of
these explorations were professional, for the benefit of mining
companies, or to determine the value of lands ; but an ultimate
motive in all of them was the attainment of knowledge and the
advancement of science; and their results were not only pub-
lished in official reports to the companies interested, but were also
the basis of many scientific papers which were afterwards pub-
lished from time to time as occasion served. During these same
explorations, no opportunity was neglected of collecting minerals,
fossils, and curious or interesting relics and materials of whatever
kind, relating to the natural history of the regions traversed. On
one occasion, while ascending the Sinnemahoning in a skiff, he
observed, high up an overhanging sandstone cliff, some rude
attempts at engraving. With much labor and difficulty he had
them detached, and upon examination found them to constitute a
rude map of the course of that river and the country near it, and
the animals found in the valley. He had it cut down to a manage-
able size and sent to the Academy of Natural Sciences at Phila-
delphia. The Pennsylvania Historical Society afterwards pub-
lished a fac simile and description of this curious specimen of
aboriginal topography.

In 1837, Mr. Johnson was appointed to take charge of the

WALTER R. JOHNSON. 291

department of magnetism, electricity, ' and astronomy, in the
United States Exploring Expedition, as originally organized ; a
post which his love of knowledge and his desire of investigating
a new field, induced him to accept, notwithstanding the long pros-
pective absence from his home and family. He entered upon
preparatory duties sometime before the departure of the expedi-
tion, and occupied some months in verifying and testing the
instruments to be under his care, in a temporary building erected
for the purpose on Rittenhouse square, in Philadelphia, and with
the aid of several naval officers, and of Profs. Walker and
Kendall.

Relying on the faith of the government, Mr. Johnson resigned
his professorship, in the Franklin Institute, for these preliminary
labors, and was also obliged to make other sacrifices and prepara-
tions. But after many months of active preparation, and many
more of vexatious delay, these justifiable expectations were
disappointed by the abandonment of the original plan, and the
reduction of the fleet, outfit, and scientific corps, to an extent and
grade every way inferior. The dignity and efficiency of the
scientific corps, in particular, was so much curtailed that it was
with disappointed hopes and lowered expectations that those who
were retained, embarked on the voyage ; and it was with satisfac-
tion rather than regret, that Mr. Johnson finally received notice
from the Secretary of the Navy that his services would not be
required ; and the satisfaction of his family, whose scientific
ardor was naturally less vivid than his own, was still greater at
his announcement that he would again resume his favorite home
avocations.

As the sphere of labor, and the demand for it, in the depart-
ment of applied science was now constantly widening, from the
wants of the increasing development of the mineral, agricultural,
and industrial resources, and the general intelligence of the coun-
try, Mr. Johnson experienced no lack of employment. Besides
extensive geological explorations in various parts of the country,
analyses of minerals, and writing the requisite reports, he had
occasion to enter, as by a natural gradation, into a new field, that
of organic chemistry. The Pennsylvania College at Gettysburg,
having in 1839 organized a medical department in Philadelphia,
Mr. Johnson received and accepted the appointment in it of Pro-
fessor of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy. In preparing for
the duties of this chair, he was required to investigate the import-
ant and interesting relations between physiology, pathology, and

292 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

animal chemistry, and to prepare them for lucid explanation to his
class. This required laborious study and profound thought ; but
the pursuit was one of fascinating interest to him, and his lectures
were among the most popular of the whole course, eliciting the
applause of the students and the approbation of the faculty. He
retained this position for four years, at the end of which time he
resigned it, to devote his undivided attention to scientific investiga-
tions requiring his presence elsewhere.

The practical knowledge which long experience had given him
in relation to coal and iron, had led him to the opinion that they
were the two most important productions of the country, both
politically and economically ; and that the extensive and rapidly
increasing use of coal, especially in commerce, navigation, and
manufacturing, demanded a thorough scientific investigation of
the properties of all its varieties, for the ascertainment of their
absolute and relative values, in generating steam, producing heat,
and for other purposes. Under the conviction that such knowl-
edge was attainable, and that it was a desideratum of especial
value to the navy. Prof. Johnson addressed Secretary Upshur,
with the view of obtaining the authority of Congress to institute
the requisite experiments. The Secretary accordingly recom-
mended the measure ; in 1841 a bill was passed authorizing him
to appropriate the necessary funds, and Prof. Johnson was author,
ized to commence the work. The preliminary steps were at
once taken, and the navy department invited coal dealers to fur-
nish specimens of varieties of coal for experiment.

The preparation of the necessary apparatus delayed the com-
mencement of actual operations until the fall of 1842. The work
was still for some reason suspended until 1843, when it was re-
commenced and industriously continued to a close in November.
Forty-one samples were tested, and sixty tons of coal consumed
in the experiments. A preliminary report was soon issued, giving
a general account of the proceedings, for the satisfaction of the
numerous inquirers on the subject. A final report however
remained to be prepared, to embody in a systematised form the
great mass of notes, observation, and analyses which had been
accumulated, and to make it available for practical purposes.
This was completed and issued by Congress in 1844, and consti-
tuted an octavo volume of 600 pages.

This report commanded universal approbation for profound and
laborious research, accuracy, and extent ot information. Prof.
Johnson, however, considered it only the beginning of the mucii

WALTER R. JOUXSOX. 293

greater work which he contemplated ; namely, the continuance of
his investigations until they should include all the varieties of
coals from the principal coal fields of the United States, and from
such others as in the progress of steam navigation we might have
occasion to use, and thus to form a complete work worthy of our
government, and commensurate with its deep interest in the
development of our physical resources. But among the innumer-
able objects of personal and political interest, and the changes of
our officers of government, many objects of great public import-
ance are often overlooked, and left to be neglected, or promoted
by the care of private enterprise. Among others, the researches
among American coals, so creditably begun, yet remain to be
finished, although its plan and execution as far as completed,
commanded universal approbation, and although petitions often
repeated and from various sources were presented, urging Con-
gress to continue the experiments until their advocates desisted,
hopelessly discouraged.

Meanwhile, the work, as far as it goes, has become a standard
authority. The British Admiralty, in the similar course of exper-
iments shortly afterwards instituted by them, adopted Prof. John-
son's plan as the basis of their operations; and those in charge of
the corresponding series of experiments in fuel under the Prussian
government, not only adopted his plan of proceeding, but bore an
honorable testimony to their obligations to its author, in the preface
to their published report, and also in a private communication to
him.

About this period. Prof. Johnson was employed in various sci-
entific researches connected with the Navy Department. He
was member of a commission to investigate the subject of floating
docks, and was engaged in examining various contrivances for
preventing steamboat explosions, the causes and prevention of the
corrosion of sheathing copper, and several subjects of minor
importance, demanding much laborious research, and the drafting
of various reports, published by government on their respective
occasions.

In 1845, Prof. Johnson accepted from the city of Boston, an
appointment, in connection with Mr. J. Jervis, the well known
civil engineer, to examine and report on the sources from which
a supply of pure water might be brought into that city ; this
important question having been surrounded with great difficulties
during several years, from the numerous and conflicting opinions
and interests combined to influence or prevent a decision •, and it

294 ir ALTER R. JOHNSON".

having been determined to employ two gentlemen of acknowl-
edged competency in scientific attainments, and free from local or
personal interest or prepossession. The summer of 1845 was
employed in this undertaking, and Prof. Johnson's share of the
task was fulfilled with much satisfaction both to himself and to the
public immediately interested.

From some years after this time, Prof. Johnson was employed
in labors of a more literary character. He prepared for Phila-
delphia publishers, editions of some of the works of Moffat,
Knapp, and Weisbach, adapting them to the wants of our own
schools and students by emendations and notes of his own.
During the same time, his pen, always actively employed, was
engaged in various other writings, always having some relation
to the advancement of science or to intellectual progress.

About this period, also, he entered with zeal into the study of
agricultural chemistry, and was among the first to awaken the
minds of the farming population of this country to the importance
and profit of the judicious practical application of theprihciples of
chemistry to the processes of their occupation. He prepared a
course of lectures on the subject, which were delivered in Phila-
delphia and the neighboring cities to good audiences, attracting
much attention from the novelty of the subject and the ability
with which it was discussed.

Always taking a deep interest in chemistry, geology, and their
kindred studies, he was one of the first twenty who organized the
American Association of Geologists at Philadelphia in 1840.
After the enlargement of the sphere of effort of this body, by
embracing all the natural sciences, and their re-organization as
the American Association for the Advancement of Science, in
1848, he served as their first Secretary.

Although for the greater part of his life devoted to pursuits of
a sciennfic character, Prof. Johnson was interested in all organiza-
lions and enterprises for general improvement, whether political,
philanthropical, or educational. While at college, he joined such
societies as aimed at personal improvement or the laudable exer-
cise of the social affections. He was a zealous and efficient
mason, and rose through many grades of office in their organiza-
tion. He was an early and active member of the Peace Society,
and of the Temperance organization. Indeed, he never allowed
himself to fall under the dominion of any animal appetites; and
finding himself becoming gradually more addicted to the use of
tobacco, which he had learned to use at college, he discontinued its

WALTER R. JOHNSON. 295

use entirely, and never resumed it. He maintained a strict
temperance in all things, through life ; believing it essential both
to bodily health and mental vigor.

For mere party politics he had little taste, and never mingled
in Its contests, but thought and acted decidedly and vigorously on
all subjects affecting the public welfare. His efforts in the course
of the movement for educational reform in Pennsylvania have
already been adverted to. His opinions relative to education made
him a willing .member of organizations for promoting it, and a
participant in their counsels and efforts, so far as his occupations
and location permitted. He was a member of the National Insti-
tute at Washington from its first organization, and while a resident
there was an active member and constant attendant. With his
fellow members, his social relations were most agreeable, to the
end of his life; and his last meeting with his friends around his
own board was with them. He was honorary member of the
Maryland Institute for the Promotion of the Mechanic Arts, and
delivered courses of lectures before them for several successive
years; the first in 1849, and the last, which was also the last he
ever delivered, in 1852. No similar effort, perhaps, ever called
forth more universal approbation from its audience than did this.
Its subject was "The Social and Industrial Relations of Man in
Europe and America."

He was always attentive to the calls of humanity, and a friend
and helper to the poor and the oppressed, whether from Europe,
or his fellow-countrymen, with voice, pen, and purse. An ardent
lover of liberty, both civil and religious, while he held firmly and
boldly to his own opinions, which approximated most nearly to
those of the Unitarian denomination, he recognized the like
freedom in all others, while abhorring all bigotry, cant, and hypoc-
risy.

Finding his chief occupations centering in Washington, he
removed thither with his family in 1848, still hoping that Congress
would authorize the resumption and completion of his researches
in American coals; continuing his own scientific researches, and
transacting some business connected with mining, civil engineer-
ing, and the procuring of patents.

At the organization of the London Exhibition of the Industry of
all nations in 1850, Prof. Johnson took a lively interest in the
enterprise, and was among the first in this country to move in the
promotion of it. He was appointed secretary of the central

296 WALTER R. JOHNSON.

committee for the United States, and performed the duties of the
ofiice zealously and faithfully.

He had for some time contemplated a visit to Europe ; and as
no occasion seemed likely to occur more attractive than that of
the opening of the World's Exhibition in 1851, he embarked for
England with part of his family, and spent some eight months in
visiting England, Wales, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and
France, crowding every day and hour with a multitude of
acquirements and observations treasured up for use in after years,
had such been allowed him. He returned, gratified to the full
extent of his expectations, both with the knowledge acquired and
with the courtesy and kindness enjoyed in his brief intercourse
with such men of science and learning as he met, and in the
facilities given him for examining all objects of general or special
interest.

In January, 1852, he was summoned to give evidence before
the House of Representatives, upon the stability of the work in
progress on the capitol extension ; a task which made it necessary
for him to examine elaborately the qualities of the materials
used and the mode of their arrangement. This occupied him
several weeks, and was performed to the satisfaction of all parties.

He had scarcely completed this work, and indeed was actually
engaged in his laboratory in carrying out some further researches
in relation to it, when he was suddenly attacked by the fatal
malady which terminated his life in the brief period of six days,
on the 26th of April, 1852.

Although he had never labored with the primary purpose of
accumulating wealth, he had usually been liberally paid for his
professional exertions ; and his rule of moderate expenditure
enabled him to live in respectable independence and generous
hospitality, and to gather a comfortable provision against future
contingencies.

The example of Prof, Johnson's life should encourage self-
reliance. Almost from his mfancy he had earned his own living.
He left no debt uncanceled, and never sought for patronage from
the rich or the powerful. In reliance upon divme protection and
aid, he put his own hands vigorously to the work he desired to do,
and steady prosperity was the result.

J, S 2-urc/eTson

^R^^-^.^yriLUjiBTumlFiisiKJlDB,

298 WILBUR FISK.

till the autumn of 1810, when he again attended the grammar
school for six weeks, and then took charge of a district school for the
winter. His ambition was now roused to obtain a collegiate educa-
tion, but his father's circumstances were not such as would enable
him to support his son through a college course. Wilbur was not,
however, to be denied on this ground. He offered to support him-
self through college by his own exertions ; and having, by much en-
treaty, gained his father's permission, he commenced his Latin gram-
mar in May, 1811, being then in his twentieth year. He fitted for
college at Peacham, having among his classmates and intimate
friends the Hon. Thaddeus Stevens, of Pennsylvania, and several oth-
er men who have since highly distinguished themselves. In August,
1812, just fifteen months from the time he commenced the study of
Latin, he had fitted himself to enter the sophomore class of the Uni-
versity of Vermont. He seems to have distinguished himself here
as a writer and speaker, but Burhngton having become, in 1813, the
head-quarters of the army, in the war with Great Britain, the college
buildings were wanted for barracks, and the classes were broken up.
After spending nearly a year at home, young Fisk entered the junior
class of Brown University, in the summer of 1814. Here he won
high reputation for the brilliancy and variety of his talents ; in every
study he ranked high, but exhibited a special fondness for belles-let-
tres. As an orator or a debater he had no equal in college. His ex-
temporaneous powers were of a very high order. In addition to
maintaining his position in his class, he found time for considerable
reading, and the authors he read were such as made their impress
upon his after life, and his style as a writer. Burke, Addison, Shaks-
peare, Johnson, Milton, Young, Beattie, and Scott, were the authors
with whom he became most familiar ; and a taste for legal study led
him also to make himself acquainted with Vattel, Burlamaqui, and
other expoundei-s of international law. He was graduated in August,
1815, having one.of the highest appointments in his class.

Having received his degree, and returned home, the next question
to be determined was, what profession he should pursue. His parents
were anxious that he should enter the ministry, but to this he was,
for several reasons, averse, though strongly impelled to it by the con-
victions of duty. He finally commenced the study of law in the
office of Hon. Isaac Fletcher, at Lyndon, and devoted all his energies
to the attainment of a thorough knowledge of its great principles.
He was still ill at case, however, and dissatisfied with himself; and
being, moreover, considerably in debt, he availed himself of a liberal
offer, obtained through President Messer, of Brown University, to

WILBUR FISK. 299

become private tutor in the family of Colonel Ridgeley, near Balti-
more. He did not, however, abandon the study of law, but contin-
ued it at his intervals of leisure. The large and well-selected library
of Colonel Ridgeley, also afforded him opportunities for intellectual
improvement. In the midst of these advantages, however, his health
became seriously impaired. His lungs, always irritable, had been
twice seriously affected while in college, and in March, 181Y, he had
a third attack, accompanied with alarming hemorrhage. His physi-
cians recommended his return to his native climate, and in May he
attempted the journey, but at Burlington was again prostrated hj
hemorrhage, and for some time little hope was entertained of his re-
covery. At length his symptoms became more favorable, and in June
he reached home, though in a very feeble state. A revival, then in pro-
gress in Lyndon, was the means of deepening and intensifying his relig-
ious convictions; and, with returning health, he came to the decision to
devote himself to the work of the ministry, and in connection with the
Methodist church. The step was one requiring no ordinary courage
and self-denial. That denomination, now so large and influential, and
so active in the promotion of education, had then very few educated
ministers in its ranks, and its membership, though active, devoted,
and pious, were not generally composed of the more intelligent classes
of society. Mr. Fisk, on the other hand, was an accomplished schol-
ar, of refined tastes, and studious habits ; he had already attained
some reputation as an eloquent speaker and writer, and was not natu-
rally devoid of ambition. To bury his brilliant talents in the Meth-
odist connection, his friends urged, was a sacrifice to which he was
not called. The struggle was a severe one, but the sincere and con-
scientious desire for usefulness, and that in the direction in which
duty seemed to point, prevailed, and in March, 1818, he was licensed
by the Quarterly Meeting Conference of Lyndon circuit, to preach.
His first field of labor was Craftsbury circuit, some twenty-five or
thirty miles from his fj\ther's residence. The succeeding year he was
assigned to Charlestown, Mass., where he labored for two years with
marked ability and success. His eloquence and earnestness attracted
large congregations, and were the means of increasing the influence
and strength of the society of which he was pastor. In the second
year of his ministry at Charlestown, he was again prostrated by pul-
monary hemorrhage, and for five months there seemed little hopes
of his recovery. In May, 1821, he left Charlestown, and by slow
and easy stages was conveyed to his father's house, which he reached
in about a month. It was nearly a year from this time before he
again ventured to preach, and then he was under the necessity of re-

300 WILBUR FISK.

straining any considerable emotional expression, in order to avoid a
recurrence of the hemorrhage. But entire rest from public speaking,
and constant exercise in the saddle, had so far restored his health
that he was again anxious to be at work. During this period of
forced inaction, his attention seems to have been specially turned to-
ward the importance of establishing schools of high grade, and colleges,
among the denomination with whom he had identified himself. The
only academy at that time under the charge of the New England
Conference, was one at Newmarket, New Hampshire, which had been
founded some years previous, and had been dragging along a feeble
and sickly existence since that time. Mr. Fisk, whose health did not
yet admit of his taking a charge, was returned superannuated, and
directed to do what he could toward raising funds for this Newmar-
ket academy. This, however, he did not attempt ; but finding him-
self, after some months, able to preach, supplied the place of a min-
ister who was ill. On the 9th of June, 1823, he was married to Miss
R. Peck, of Providence, Rhode Island, whose acquaintance he had
formed while in college. At the next meeting of the New England
Conference, the subject of the agency for the Newmarket academy
was called up, and the inquiry made, why the agent has not raised
funds ? " Because," was his reply, " my conscience would not let
me." Inquiry having been made into the cause of these conscien-
tious scruples, and a change being suggested in the location of the
academy, a committee, consisting of Mr. (afterward Bishop,) Iledding,
Mr. Lindsey, and Mr. Fisk, were appointed, with authority to investi-
gate the subject, and to adopt such measures as might be deemed ex-
pedient or necessary. The result of the action of this committee
was an entirely new organization of the school, and its removal to
Wilbraham, Mass.

For two years ensuing, Mr. Fisk acted as presiding elder over the
Vermont district, a very laborious and, usually, a thankless post, since
the necessary supervision over the ministers of the district, and the
ofiicial report relative to the assignment of charges, very often gave
real or fancied cause of offense ; but the winning manners, the ready
tact, and the evident interest in the welfare of each minister, which
Mr. Fisk manifested, caused him to become very popular in this try-
ing position.

The removal of the Newmarket academy to Wilbraham, Massachu-
setts, had been eflfected mainly through Mr. Fisk's influence. The
people of North Wilbraham had offered to erect suitable buildings
there, and to use their influence to promote the prosperity of the
school, if located among them. An act of incorporation was obtained

WILBUR FISK. 301

from tlie legislature, in 1825, and the buildings commenced the same
year. Amos Binney, Esq., of Boston, pledged $10,000 toward the
enterprise, and Rev. John Lindsey was appointed agent to secure the
remainder by subscription. In November, 1825, Mr. Fisk Wiis elect-
ed principal of the academy by the trustees, having a short time
previously delivered the address at the opening. During the winter,
as he was still presiding elder of the Vermont district, he did not re-
move to Wilbraham, but left the academy under the charge of the
assistant, Mr. N. Dunn, spending, however, such time there as he could
spare from his other engagements. In the spring of 1826, the Con-
ference recognized Mr. Fisk as principal of the academy, and, in May,
he removed to Wilbraham with his ftimily. Here he found ample
employment for every moment. " The school," says Prof. Holdich,
" was new, most of the persons concerned were inexperienced in their
business, and the plan of the institution novel ; facts which excluded,
in no small degree, the advantages of a division of labor. Mr. Fisk
was chief director every where. All looked up to him for counsel, —
steward, teachers, and pupils. In addition, he had frequent calls
abroad to preach, deliver addresses, and the like, besides conducting
a very extended correspondence."

During the earlier part of Mr. Fisk's term of service at Wilbra-
ham, the institution labored under serious pecuniary embarrassment.
At one time the indebtedness was so heavy and so pressing, that
some of the trustees feared that they should be imprisoned for the
debts of the seminary. From this incumbrance it was relieved by
the determined and persevering efforts of Mr. Fisk and Mr. Lindsey.
Yet, during the five years in which he was at the head of the institu-
tion, his salary, owing to its limited income, was barely sufficient to
defray his expenses, even with the most rigid economy. Yet, small
as this pittance was, it did not prevent his laboring with all his pow-
ers for the promotion of the interests of the seminary. He organized
and taught a theological class in addition to his other duties, and for
two years supplied the Methodist church in the village, that the trus-
tees might have funds enough for the salaries of the other teachers.
Meanwhile, his reputation was constantly increasing. Humble and
laborious as were his duties, his mode of performing them was so at-
tractive, and his talents so evidently superior to the position he occu-
pied, that numerous efforts were made to induce him to accept a
higher post. In 1826, he was appointed to preach the election ser-
mon to the legislature of his native state, and, immediately after its
delivery, was chosen chaplain to the legislature. In 1829, he re-
ceived the appointment of preacher of the election sermon to the

302 WILBUR FISK.

Massachusetts legislature. During his residence at Wilbraham, he
was offered the presidency of Vermont University, and of La Grange
College ; was elected a professor in the University of Alabama, with
a large salary and a prospect of the presidency of the university ; and
was also chosen bishop of the Methodist church in Canada. Of mi-
nor appointments, some of them with liberal salaries, there were not
a few; but none of them could draw him from his favorite work as a
teacher. The appointment of bishop, in Canada, the most laborious
and least lucrative of the whole, was the only one he seriously consid-
ered, and this he finally declined, though regretfully, from a convic-
tion that the interests of the academy would be periled by his leav-
ing it. In 1829, Mr. Fisk received the degree of D. D., from Augus-
ta College, Kentucky, and in 1835, it was also conferred by his alma
mater. Brown University.

In addition to his other duties. Dr. Fisk, while at the head of the
seminary at Wilbraham, was twice elected to the General Conference,
the highest court of the Methodist church, and was a leading mem-
ber of its most important committees, and an active debater and
counselor in its discussions. As a member of the committee on edu-
cation, he rendered great service in urging the necessity and import-
ance of the establishment of schools of high grade throughout the
connection, and the organization of colleges where they could be sus-
tained.

Theological and reformatory controversies also occupied a consid-
erable share of the age. The temperance movement was then com-
mencing, and he entered into it with all the ardor of his nature ; and
some of his sermons and addresses on this subject are, to this day,
among the most effective temperance documents in circulation.

Yet, amid these multifarious labors, he found time, or, rather, by his
perfect system and order, he made time, to become one of the most
accomplished teachers of his time. The seminary had opened with
but seven scholars ; during the first term the number rose to thirty,
and the next year to seventy-five. At tlie end of three years the
number in attendance was between two and three hundred. To all
these he was a friend in whom they could confide ; a parent on whose
love and tenderness they could rely. He seldom used the rod, and
the winning and affectionate manner he always manifested toward his
pupils rendered its use almost unnecessary. Yet he never failed to
maintain order and obedience in the schools. Like Dr. Arnold, he
sought to inculcate a high standard of honor in his scholars, and few
teachers have been able to rely with more certainty on the influence
of moral principle in restraining and controlling their pupils. A lady,

WILBUR FISK. 303

who was associated with him as a teacher at Wilbraham, writing to
his widow after his decease says : " He bore all our burdens, and was
consulted on every occasion. All matters were referred to him, mor-
al, intellectual, or physical. No circumstance, however trifling it
might appear, if connected with the interests of the institution, was
beneath his notice."

But the way was preparing for his entrance upon a higher and
more extensive field of usefulness. He had toiled faithfully in his
humble sphere, and now his opportunities for molding and influ-
encing the moral character of the youth of the country were to be
enlarged. We have already seen that, in his report as chairman of
the committee on education at the General Conference, he had urged
the establishment of two other colleges, to be under the patronage of
the denomination. At that time (1828,) there were under the pat-
ronage of the Methodist church in the United States, seven schools
in successful operation, and three more in an incipient condition ; and
there were also two colleges, viz., Augusta College, Kentucky, char-
tered in 1822, and Madison College, at Uniontown, Pennsylvania,
chartered in 1827. Two others had been attempted, and failed.

As yet, however, the New York and New England Conferences had
no institution of learning within their bounds, and as their member-
ship was rapidly increasing, both in numbers and intelligence, the ne-
cessity of a college for the education of their children, and especially
for the training of those who contemplated entering the ministry, was
beginning to be evident.

In 1829, the buildings erected for the hterary, scientific, and mili-
tary academy, under Captain Partridge, at Middletown, Connecticut,
became vacant. Overtures, at first made in jest, by the trustees, to
some leading members of the Methodist church in Middletown, final-
ly led to correspondence, to action on the part of the New York and
New England Conferences, to overtures from other cities, and finally
to the offering, on the part of the trustees and stockholders of the
military academy, of the entire property, valued at about $30,000,
and to an additional subscription of $18,000, on the part of the citi-
zens of Middletown. This liberal offer was accepted, the organization
effected, and the name of The Wesleyan University agreed upon.
A charter was granted by the legislature of Connecticut, in 1831,
granting university privileges and immunities, and making provision
for placing the institution, should it become desirable, under the di-
rection of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal church.

In all these measures Dr. Fisk had taken an active part, incited
not less by his zeal for the promotion of education generally, than by

304 WILBUR FISK.

the desire to provide the means of such education for the sons of the
Methodist clergy, very few of whom could now obtain it, on account
of the expense. Another object on which his heart was set, was to
initiate efficient measures for the thorough training of young men
who might engage in the work of foreign missions, which were now
beginning to occupy a large place in the hearts of the members of
the Methodist church.

At the first meeting of the Joint Board of Trustees and Visitors,
August 24th, 1830, Dr. Fisk was elected president of the Wesleyan
University. The appointment was not at all of his seeking ; he hesi-
tated for some time about accepting it, and was, indeed, on the point
of declining ; but, at last, convinced that it was a post of usefulness
which he was called to occupy, he addressed the following letter to
the Board, announcing his acceptance.

To the Joint Board of Trustees and Visitors of the Wesleyan University,
now in Session in Middletown^ Connecticut.
Gentlemen : — With a high sense of the confidence reposed in me by a majori-
ty of 3'our Board, in electing me president of your proposed university, I tender
you my sincere and grateful acknowledgments. I have a deep conviction of my
own inability to perform the important and responsible duties connected with this
appointment. In accordance, however, with the judgment of my friends, and in
reliance upon the cordial and united aid of the Board, and of the colleagues
which have been or may be appointed, and especially in an humble reliance upon
Almighty God, without whose assistance the most gifted labor in vain, I will en-
gage to the extent of my ability in the service of the Board, in the discharge of
the duties assigned me, so soon as I can, in honor and justice, disengage myself
from my present relation to another institution. W. Fisk.

Dr. Fisk remained at Wilbraham till December, 1830. At the
close of the autumn term, he delivered a farewell address, in which
he reviewed the five years of his connection with the school. We
subjoin a few paragraphs from this address, as exhibiting the spirit of
the man and the progress of the institution.

Five years of labor and anxiety have deeply enlisted and closely connected
every feeling of my heart in its (the institution's,) behalf. Such have been the
variety and extent of my labors, that, contrary to general experience with respect
to past time, the period seems, upon the review, like half an age, instead of five
years. But in this retrospect I have nothing to regret, with respect to my con-
nection with tlie school, but my own imperfections and mistakes 5 of these I have
had an abundant share, and have needed the forbearance of the trustees and the
charity of the public ; aside from these, the review is, on the whole, pleasant.

My experience has been profitable. I have had an opportunity of taking many
interesting lessons in studying the unsophisticated character of childhood and
youth ; I have become more interested in the improvement of the rising genera-
tion, and have gained a fixed purpose of devoting to this work, in connection with
my ministerial duties, the little I have of talent or influence, and the remainder
of a feeble constitution and short life.

I had rather have my name embalmed in the memory and affections of the
rising generation, than to gather military honors in the field of battle, or civic
wreaths in the senate house, or to have it emblazoned on tlie proudest escutch-
eons of this world's glory.

At the opening of this school we had seven scholars, since which time we have
entered upon our books one thousand one hundred and fifty difiorent scholars.

WILBUR FISK.

305

Of tlicsG, about thirty have entered tlie sacred ministry, a number are pursuing
the study of law or physic, from twenty to thirty are now pursuing a college
course, and from a hundred and thirty to a hundred and fifty have gone out of
our seminary at ditlerent times as teachere.

Dr. Fisk came to Middletown himself in December, 1830, but
did not remove bis family tbere till the ensuing spring. For several
months he was engaged in efforts to raise funds for tbe endowment
of the university.

On the 21st September, 1831, tbe college was formally opened by pub-
lic exercises. On tbis occasion Dr. Fisk delivered bis inaugural address,
in which be developed bis views in regard to collegiate education.
Tbis address was publisbed and widely circulated, and attracted mucb
attention, from tbe vigor and originality of its positions. He pro-
posed a different classification of students from tbat usually adopted ;
dividing them, not into classes according to tbe length of standing,
but into sections according to tbeir advancement. The diploma was
to be received whenever the candidate was prepared for it, without
reference to the time spent in college. Students who bad passed tbat
period of life when tbe ancient languages could be pursued to tbe
greatest advantage were allowed to take a special or partial course in
science and English literature, and to receive a certificate, or modified
diploma, testifying their attainments in tbe branches they had stud-
ied. The study of ancient languages did not receive as high a com-
parative rank as in some colleges.

Here, as in Wilbrabam, he found ample employment for every mo-
ment. "All called upon him for advice or other aid," says Professor
Holdicb, " and his supervision extended every where. He draughted
rules for the university, and framed the regulations of tbe boarding
department; he superintended the studies in the college, and tbe pe-
cuniary arrangements of the prudential committee ; he heard classes
recite in Greek, Latin, and metaphysics, and listened to the petty de-
tails of tbe students' personal concerns ; and while he aided the pro-
fessors in the higher regions of mind, he often came down to the ex-
amination of tbe accounts of the institution in dollars and cents.
He was remarkably fitted for tbis multiplicity of business, by his pe-
culiar tact in management, his readiness and flexibility of mind, his
knowledge of men, habits of order, and facility in executing his plans.
He was never embarrassed, never out of temper. Skill in securing
co-operation in his plans was one of his peculiar qualifications. AH
had confidence in bis judgment, and, in most things, readily yielded
to bis views. His own mind seemed the center of light and influence,
and its radiations illumined all who were about him."

In 1831, in connection with Kev. W. C. Woodbridoje; Rev. E. Rob-

306 WILBUR FISK.

inson, and Rev. Dr. Gallaudet, Prof. Woolsey, and Drs. Milner and
Maclay, he was engaged in a correspondence wilh distinguished
friends of education in England and this country, on the use of the
Bible, both in the original and in its English version, as a classical
text- book.

The invitations to more lucrative fields of labor, which had been so.
frequent during his residence at Wilbraham, were still more numer-
ous in his new position. Unsought by him, often regarded, indeed, in
his humble estimate of his own powers, as far above his abilities,
few men have had occasion to decline so many stations of honor and
usefulness. But, waiving all other considerations, his convictions of
his duty to the Wesleyan University forbade his leaving that post for
any other, whatever might be its superiority in honor or emolument.
Once and once only did he propose to resign the presidency of the
university ; but it was to go on a mission to Liberia ; and so urgent
were the friends of the college that he should not leave it, that ho
yielded to their wishes.

The college meanwhile was making good and satisfactory progress
under his care. The number of students had increased to a hun-
dred ; and the standard of scholarship was equal to that of the other
colleges of the northern states. In the government of the students,
Dr. Fisk was remarkably successful. We often read, in catalogues or
announcements of colleges and literary institutions of a high rank,
that the government is strictly paternal. Yet, what judicious parent
would institute, in his own family, the regulations and the strict sur-
veillance which marks the government of many colleges ? It can be
said to the honor of Dr. Fisk that he made his government strictly
paternal. The young men looked up to him with the affection and
confidence of children to a parent. He took an interest in their con-
cerns ; if they erred he reproved them, but in a manner so tender and
affectionate as to win them to penitence, not to harden them in crime.
The number dismissed was remarkably small. The self-respect of
the students was not wounded, and in time of trouble, sickness, or
sorrow, they always found in him a warm and sympathizing friend.

It was a favorite idea with Dr. Fisk to connect theological with col-
legiate education in the case of those designing to enter upon minis-
terial or missionary labor, and he was opposed to the organization of
separate theological institutions, as contrary to the Methodist policy.

Dr. Fisk's position and talents, not less than the earnestness and
deep convictions of truth and duty which always actuated hira,
plunged him often into controversies, foreign to his genial, nature,
yet forced upon him by the circumstances in which he was placed.

WILBUR FISK. 307

These, in connection with his official duties, and his idraost constant
labor as a preacher, impaired his health, and compelled him, in the
autumn of 1835, to seek for rest and relaxation in a voyage to Eu-
rope. He spent some fourteen months abroad ; and, though suffering
a part of the time from severe illness, he visited most of the promi-
nent educational institutions of England and the continent, and, ever
mindful of the prosperity of his beloved university, collected large
additions to its library, cabinet, and apparatus, and noted whatever
he thought might improve his own instructions, or add to the effi-
ciency of the college.

During his absence in Europe, he was elected, by the General Con-
ference, one of the bishops of the Methodist Episcopal church. This
office he declined, in a letter so characteristic of the man in its mod-
esty and self-sacrificing spirit, that we regret that our necessary restric-
tion of this sketch to his educational career compels us to omit it.

Refreshed and invigorated by the season of rest and relaxation he
had enjoyed, Dr. Fisk returned to his labors with renewed zeal and
energy. He published one or two articles on the relations of the
conference seminaries and academies to the colleges, urging the ne-
cessity of sending those students who were fitted for college to col-
lege, instead of retaining them in the academies, with a view to their
entering some of the higher classes, and thus often preventing their
taking a college course at all, or, at least, their deriving full benefit
from it. This led to considerable correspondence with the principals
of these academies. On the question of distinct theological schools,
too, his opinion was again solicited, and given. The writing out a
narrative of his travels, and one or two controversies, engaged all his
leisure from his professional duties. His attendance upon the gene-
ral and local conferences, was a heavy addition to the labors of a life
already too busy. The strength temporarily restored by his European
tour, began to give signs of yielding again, amid the pressure of du-
ties so onerous. He returned from the New England Conference, at
Boston, in the summer of 1838, sorely jaded in body and spirit, but
after a few days rest he was again at work as diligently as ever. An
extract from a letter, written about this time to a graduate of the uni-
versity, who had been elected to the presidency of a southern college,
will explain, in some degree, the secret of his success in the manage-
ment of literary institutions.

I have another thought to suggest. You are aware, I presume, that southern
colleges have suffered more from the officious interference of the trustees tlian
from any otiier source. This is espeically true of the state institutions. When
Mr. F. first wrote to me on the subject, I informed him I thought a man miglit
be obtained who would suit them, provided they would permit him to have acon-
trolhng voice in the organization of the faculty and in the internal arrangement of
the school. The reply was, that they should' certainly be willing to do that, pro-

308 WILBUR FISK.

vided tlicy had a man in whom they found they could confide. This is all we
could expect.

Now the perfection of management in a principal or president, is to manaj^e
with such prudence and judgment as to be able to secure the co-operation of the
Board in carrying out his plans. The truth is, a public institution will never flour-
ish when the president is merely tJie instrument to carry out the details of the
Board. The Board must be his instrument in carrying out his plans. I speak,
of course, with respect to the government, the course of study, the organization
of the faculty, &c. In money matters, of course, they are the legal organ. But
even here the president must keep a good look-out, and assist in all matters of
economy and finance, as far as he can. In short, the president must be the head
and soul. A man that can not govern the faculty, the trustees, and the students,
and all without seeming to aspire to rule^ is hardly qualified for the place. This
he will always be able to do, if his plans are wise, and are executed with prudence
and moderation. And although your youth, and your northern birth and educa-
tion, may prevent you from speaking and acting with so great freedom at first,
yet you will have a countervailing advantage in the fact of its being a new insti-
tution, and of its coming into existence under your care. I would advise, then,
that you get young men for your colleagues, so that you may mold them to your
will ; that you liave few regulations in the form of trustee statutes. Require
tliem, if they are inclined to make laws (except what relates to terms, &c.,) to
let you experiment a little at first, and find out what you need ; and, when you
think you have gained their confidence, always evade, in the least offensive way
possible, any interference of the Board in the government.

The commencement of the first of August, 1838, was the last
which Dr. Fisk ever attended. To perform its duties, taxed sadly his
waning strength, and roused the fear in the hearts of many, a fear
which events justified, that he would not be able to participate in an-
other. From a letter, addressed by him to Zion's Herald soon after,
we learn that the whole number of students was one hundred and
fifty-two, and that sixty entered the new class.

Still intent upon occupying his time, though very feeble, he ad-
dressed an appeal to the citizens of Connecticut in behalf of the uni-
versity, which aided materially in procuring for it, at the next session
of the legislature, a grant of $10,000. He also commenced two
works, one on Mental and Moral Philosophy, and another on the Phi-
losophy of Theology. Though unable to stand more than a few min-
utes, from weakness of his limbs, he preached three or four times, sit-
ting in his chair, the last time being on the night of the new year.
He also visited New York, on business relative to the Oregon and Li-
beria missions, and, though extremely feeble, delivered an eloquent
and thrilling address in behalf of the latter. In January he wrote a
series of letters for the press, on Protestant missions in France, and com-
menced a review, which he was unable to finish, of Dr. Bangs' *' HlstO'
ry of the Methodist Church;^'' and, with all his old ardor, entered into
the plans for the celebration of the centenary of Wesley an Method-
ism. But, with all the other objects which called for his attention,
feeble as his health was, he did not forget or neglect the interests of
the university. On the 14th of January, he was engaged nearly all
day in sketching a plan for the new boarding hall; and, though suffer-
ing almost constantly from obstructed respiration, he visited, so late

WILBUR FISK. 3Q9

as the 30th of January, a graduate, who was lying ill two or three
miles distant. On the 5th of February, he dispatched thirty letters,
all relating to the affairs of the college. This was his last labor.
He was evidently sinking rapidly, and a consultation of physicians,
held on the 8th of that month, gave a decision unfavorable to his re-
covery, or his long continuance in life. From this time, and, indeed,
for some weeks previous, he was a great sufferer. Owing to his diffi-
culty of breathing, he was obliged to remain in a sitting or standing
posture nearly the whole time ; and thus he became greatly wearied,
while the paroxysms of difficult respiration would often involve the
most intense suffering ; yet amid it all he was ever patient, considerate
of others, kind, and calm. For more than two weeks the spirit of the
good man seemed pluming its wings for its departure, but the summons
was delayed ; and, though able to speak but slowly, and with great pain
and difficulty, he summoned to his dying chamber, in turn, the friends
of the university, its faculty, and the students, and expressed his views
and wishes, and, in the tenderest manner, bade each adieu. To the
New York Conference he sent, by his friend, Dr. Bangs, the message :
" I give it as my dying request, that they nurse the Wesleyan Uni-
versity, that they must exert themselves to sustain and carry it for-
ward." When the wandering of that noble intellect but too surely
betokened that the final hour was approaching, his incoherent ex-
pressions indicated that it was still the college which was the subject
of his thoughts ; at one time he seemed to imagine himself arrang-
ing a class ; at another, discussing some metaphysical point with his
class. Thus was "the ruling passion strong in death." On the
morning of the 2 2d of February, his spirit was at last released from
the suffering and shattered body it had inhabited.

His funeral was attended by a vast concourse, and his virtues and
abilities eloquently portrayed by Rev. Dr. Means, of Emory College,
Georgia, who delivered the funeral address. He was buried in the
college cemetery, where one of his fellow professors had preceded
him. His age was forty-seven years and a half. A plain monument-
al shaft marks the place of his repose, bearing on one side the simple
inscription

WILBUR FISK, S. T. D.,

FIRST PRESmENT OF WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY,

and on the reverse the dates of his birth and death.

Besides his travels, an octavo volume of seven hundred pages, Dr.
Fisk published a very large number of essays, reviews, controversial
pamphlets, sermons, and addresses ; some of which have been preserved
i:i more permanent form by the Methodist Book Concern. His edu-
cational publications are all, however, it is believed, out of print.

310 WILBITR FISK.

Extract from a letter, by Rev. Dr. Cooke, president of Lawrence
University, at Appleton, Wisconsin, October, 1858.

"To say that Dr. Fisk was a leading spirit in directing the educational efforts
of his own denomination, or to say that lie was an excellent president of a col-
lege, is not to present him as an inventor or originator of any thing useful. Ho
should stand before the world, as the originator and father of a distinct class of
literary institutions, now so very useful and widely extended throughout the
Eastern, Middle, and Western States ; I mean that grade of mixed schools, for the
education of both sexes, generally known among the Methodists as "Semina-
ries " — and which might with propriety be called, The Feajj^s Colleges.

Prior to his time, there had existed two, and but two, classes of institutions of
learning above the common school — the college and the old fashioned New Eng-
land academy. The former, without exception, excluded females from the ad-
vantages they afforded, and besides they were not sufficiently democratic to
reach very effectually the masses of the people. Higher education was confined
almost exclusively to the learned professions. The other class, with but few ex-
ceptions, had sunk into a remarkable degree of inefficiency, and accomplished
little more than to prepare a few boys for college.

Discovering at once the wants, not only of its Methodist public, but of the
people generally, early in his ministry, he commenced the work of establishing
an institution that should be better adapted to the masses, and be open to both
sexes. His first efforts in that direction were, I think, put forth at New Market
N. H., but other portions of New England Methodists soon waking up to the
importance of having literary institutions under the denominational control,
"Wilbraham, by a sort of compromise, was finally agreed upon as the more central
location ; thus arose the first institution of its grade, with Dr. Fisk as its head.

Under his skillful management, its experience proved sucessful beyond the
expectations of friends ; and a few years onh' sufficed to renew the experience
at Readfield, Maine, and at Cazenovia and Lima, in the State of New York.

Up to this period, the new movements to cheapen and popularize higher educa-
tion to the masses, have been almost exclusively confined to, and directed by,
the rising zeal of the Methodists; but other denominations soon saw the success
attending these mixed higher seminaries, and were not slow to imitate, in this
particular, the original leaders of this new enterprise. And now, under the
various denominations, and bearing the public sanctions won by the marked suc-
cess that has attended them, these institutions are scattered through not New
England alone, but also the Middle, Western, and North-Western States. They
are eveiy whore cheapening education, stirring up the people to its importance,
and reaching the masses, who would otherwise have been entirely overlooked.

Some of these institutions have an average attendance of five or six hundred
pupils, have endowments and other facilities for imparting instruction scarcely
inferior to many of our old and respectable colleges.

We by no means claim for these institutions, that they have been the best
for all purposes, or that they have in all cases, like Old Phillips' Academy and
others that might be named — par nobile fratrum — imparted the most thorough
classical training to their pupils; but wo do claim that they have specifically
met the wants of the people as no otliers have, and that they are now accom-
plishing the greatest good for the greatest number.

For whatever of value this class of institutions has been, or shall be, to the
cause of cheap and popular education, the world is indebted to the Methodists,
"who preceded other denominations b)' several years in their successful manage-
ment. To the lamented Dr. Fisk, especially, does the world owe a debt of
gratitude, not only as the founder of two of the most useful institutions of New
England, but also as the originator of that class of seminaries, so deservedly
popular, for the co-education of the sexes.''

I

Eng? V A., a, h;

;W

1 over whicli be bad prei^ided with

r?. The occasion, ^st

-f his pupils, boi _ nd

t Brown University, which

'-' -* ■ ■ • ,.x-

d ou the

Hi

ry. ii..
•A to «1*'<"

812 JOHN KL\GSBURY.

leading school in Providence, which had been established by that gen-
tleman. He continued in this association with Mr. Dewitt, for nearly
two years, when he commenced the " ^'oung Ladies' High School,"
first as a department of the school with which he had before been
connected, and afterwards as a separate and independent institution.
It was commenced at the outset, as it has been always continued,
purely as a private enterprise, with no patronage and with no guar-
antees of support, save such as might be found in its own intrinsic
merits and claims on the public estimation. But the history of the
school, and the exposition of the principles by which it was managed,
we leave to be given by its founder himself in the address which he
delivered to his assembled pupils on the occasion to which we have
referred, while we briefly sketch the other useful services with which
his life has been filled.

Though he had embarked thus early after leaving college, in an en-
terprise which was destined to depend for its success almost entirely
on his own unassisted labors, he was yet not unmindful of the duties
which an educated man, whatever may be his calling, owes to the
community in which be lives. The" interests of general education,
and of philanthropy and religion, early enlisted his active exertions,
and we only record what we know to be the general verdict of his
fellow citizens in Providence, when we say that few persons in that
city, within the past thirty years, have rendered so eminent services
to all these high interests of his fellow men. He united himself with
the Richmond Street Congregational Church in Providence, and there
became a teacher in the Sunday. School at a period when such places
of instruction were comparatively in their infancy. He also became
a member of the Providence Franklin Society — an association for the
study of science, especially of the sciences of nature, and was for
many years its Secretary, and afterwards the keeper of its cabinet,
and its President.

The pupils whom he instructed in his school, belonged, for the
most part, to the more affluent and cultivated classes of society, and
the fidelity and care which his daily life as an instructor, constantly
exemplified, inspired to an unusual degree the confidence of the com-
munity. A multitude of those labors of various kinds, which in every
considerable town, demand education and skill, executive ability and
a knowledge of public opinion, were thus constantly devolved upon
him. Many of these, he was, of course, compelled to decline ; but
there were very many others which he performed with signal advant-
age to the several interests — whether religious, social, or scientific —
to which they pertained. He thus, to a degree that is seldom

JOHN KINGSBURY. 313

reached in the secluded and laborious profession of a teacher, became
identified with most of the higher interests and institutions of the
city in which his lot was cast.

But in addition to all these comparatively private labors, which
have often come to him in large proportion, he has also long been
distinguished by his activity and good services in behalf of those
wider agencies of beneficence which extend beyond the community
ia which he lives. In the year 1830, the American Institute of In-
struction was established — that well known Association of x\merican
Teachers, whose influence has contributed so largely to the elevation
and improvement of our national education. Mr. Kingsbury was
among its original founders, and has always been one of its most ac-
tive and efficient oflScers. From 1830 to 1837 he was a councillor in
its Board, from 1837 to 1855, he was one of its Vice-Presidents, and
in 1855 was chosen President, and presided at its annual meetings in
1856 and 1857, when he declined a re-election, and again accepted
the subordinate post of Vice-President.

In 1845, soon after the reorganization of the public schools
of Rhode Island, the Rhode Island Institute of Instruction was
formed, for the purpose of elevating the professional character
of teachers, and of securing the cooperation of all classes of the
community in carrying into efiect the system of public instruc-
tion which had then just been commenced in that State. Of this
Association, Mr. Kingsbury, though at the head of a private school,
whose interests were wholly aloof from the system in question,
was one of the earliest originators, and held the office of President
from 1845 to 1856, a period, during which it accomplished very im-
portant results in behalf of the public education of that State. The
aim of this Association was to remove prejudices, to diffuse informa-
tion respecting common schools, and also to secure a general coopera-
tion in their behalf. In promoting these several objects, as well as
ii raising among the friends of education, the funds which were re-
quired for the purpose, the greater part of the labor was ahvays per-
formed by the President. In resigning the office of Commissioner of
Public Schools in 1849, Mr. Barnard expressed his obligations for the
valuable cooperation he had received from the Institute, and particu-
larly from the gentleman who had presided over it from its first organ-
ization : '' To the uniform personal kindness of Mr. Kingsbury^ to
his sound, practical judgment in all matters relating to schools and
education, to his prompt business habits, to his large spirit, to his
punctual attendance, and valuable addresses in every meeting of the
Institute which has been held out of the city, and to the pecuniary aid

314 JOIIN KINGSBURY.

which his high character and influence in this community has enabled
him to extend to the various plans which have been adopted by this
department, he desired to bear this public testimony, and to make his
grateful acknowledgements, both personal and oflacial."

Nor have his public sympathies been by any means restricted to the
interests with which he has always had a professional connection.
In November, 1839, having long been connected with the Sunday
School of the church to which he was attached, he commenced a
Bible class for young men, as a branch of that school. That Bible
class he has continued, uninterrupted by the other labors of his life,
to the present time, — a period of nearly nineteen years, during which
he has taught the lessons of the Bible to about four hundred young
men who have been members of the class, and among them have
been more than one hundred and fifty students of the University at
which he received his education. In this connection, we may also
mention that when, in 1851, a portion of the church with which he
was connected decided to form a new religious society, and erect a
house of worship near their own places of residence, Mr. Kingsbury
was placed at the head of the movement, and it was by his personal
efforts that the greater part of the subscriptions was obtained, by
which that important enterprise was accomplished, and the Central
Congregational Church successfully established. A similar service he
had already performed in behalf of the Young Men's Bible Society,
of which he was for many years the President, and at two different
periods, he provided the means and superintended the agency for sup-
plying every destitute family in the State with the Word of God.
He has also been, for nearly eight years, a corporate member of the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and is at the
present time a Trustee of the Butler Hospital for the Insane, — an in-
stitution which always makes no inconsiderable demand on the time
and services of those who are charged with its management.

In 1844, Mr. Kingsbury was chosen a member of the Board of
Trustees of Brown University, and immediately became one of its ac-
tive managers and guardians. In 1850, when a subscription to the
amount of $125,000 was raised for its more complete endowment, he
was placed upon the committee to whom the work was intrusted, and
it was to his faithful and experienced services that the success of this
enterprise was in no small degree to be ascribed. In 1853, he was
raised to the Board of Fellows of the University, and at the same
time was chosen Secretary of the corporation ; and in these offices he
still continues to labor for the promotion of the interests of this vene-
rable seat of learning. In token of the estimation in which his pub-

JOHN KINGSBURY. g-^g

He services are held at the University, he received from its Fehows,
in 1856, tlie honorary degree of Doctor of Laws.

It has often been said that a professional man is always a debtor
to his profession, and the sketch which we have given, shows in what
manner the gentleman to whom it relates has acknowledged and paid
this debt to his profession, lie might have done it by the publication
of text-books or by contributions to the science or the learning of
the teacher's calling, or by smoothing the professional pathway of
others, by the lessons of his own experience and endeavors. lie has,
however, chosen another mode, and has paid the debt due to his pro-
fession by giving to it his most assiduous and life-long devotion ; and
still more by linking his untiring labors with every beneficent agency
and institution in the community to which he belongs. He has in
this manner, done his part to exalt the profession of a teacher, and to
illustrate its native affinities for whatever is pure and useful and of
good report among men.

But the period of thirty years during which he had presided over
the school which he founded, was now drawing to a close, ^nd he
had long been instructing the daughters of those who were his earli-
er pupils. It was the period to which he had always designed to
restrict his active labors as an instructor, and he took the necessary
steps to provide a successor* in the post which he had created, as well
as occupied for so many years. No sooner, however, was it known
that he was about to liberate himself from the daily toils and cares
of his profession, than he was solicited by the friends of education in
Rhode Island, to accept the office of Commissioner of Public Instruc-
tion, then just made vacant by the resignation of Rev. Robert Allyn.
Before he had been able, entirely, to close his labors as a teacher, he
received from the governor of the State, a commission for the office
in question. Upon the duties of that office he entered in October
1857, bringing to them qualifications, such as a mature experience in
the practical details of education, and a large acquaintance with its
broadest and most comprehensive interests cannot fail to bestow.

We have thus hastily sketched an outline of the course of profes-
sional fidelity and success, and of public service and usefulness, which
Mr. Kingsbury has, for thirty years, quietly and unostentatiously pur-
sued in the community with which he has been identified. We now
turn from the instructor to the school, and especially to the interesting
occasion which closed his connection with it on the morning of the fifth
day of February, 1858. The account of the exercises, for the greater
part, we have taken from the reports that appeared in the Providence
Journal.

♦Mr. Amos Perry.

316 JOHN KINGSBURY.

EEUXION OF THE TOUXG LADIES' HIGH SCHOOL, FEBRUARY 5tH, 1858.

It was to celebrate this retirement of Mr. Kingsbury from the charge
of the school, that the ladies' both matrons and maidens — who had
been his pupils, assembled on that day, with their friends, in the Chapel
of the University.

The occasion, though private in its nature, brought together a con-
siderable company of the leading citizens of Providence, among whom
we may mention the Governor of the State, the Mayor of the City, the
President and several of the Professors of the Universitj^, and several
clergymen of different denominations. President Wayland occupied the
chair, and Rev. Dr. Swain commenced the exercises with a prayer, after
which the following lines, written by a recent* member of the school,
were sung by the assembly to the tune of Old Hundred :

"A grateful band we come to-day,

Within these sacred walls to pay
A parting tribute to our guide,
Who led our steps to wisdom's tide.

Here are the friends we loved of yore,
With whom we studied earthly lore ;
Who trod with us the paths of truth,
In those light hearted days of youth.

Gone from us now those sunny hours,
Vanished like dew drops from the flowers ;
Passed like the mist from off the hill,
Yet memory fond recalls them still.

Within a generation's span,
The union ends which then began ;
Above, in heaven, oh, may there be,
A union for eternity."

Dr. Wayland then arose, and after a brief explanation of the origin
and import of the scene before him, made in substance the following
address :

This occasion sufficiently explains itself, yet I cannot refrain from of-
fering a few additional words by way of personal testimony. To me
this gathering possesses a peculiar interest, for I have known this institu-
tion from its commencement, and have observed its progress to the pres-
ent hour. It arose, as the sun frequently arises on the morning of a most
brilliant day, amidst clouds and mist. The greater part of our citizens at
that time looked at the attempt as very public spirited, but very chimeri-
cal. Our population was but about one-third of its present number. It
was seen that such schools as we needed could be sustained in Boston,
New York and Philadelphia, but very few believed that we could sustain
one in Providence. Mr. Kingsbury thought ditferontly. He knew us
better than we knew ourselves. He commenced his school in the full
belief that any thing which deserves success, is as sure to succeed in

JOHN KINGSBURY.

317

Providence as anywhere in New England. The result justified his an-
ticipations. His school was immediately filled, and for thirty years with-
out any solicitation, without even an advertisement, it has always been
full to overflowing. At many times the applicants waiting for admission
were numerous enough to have established another such school. And
this much has been achieved without pandering, for a moment, to the
ephemeral fancies of the day, without an effort to please men or women,
mothers or daughters, except by the faithful, able and impartial discharge
of every duty. Mr. Kingsbury determined to have a ladies' school which
should be an honor to Providence, or he would have none at all. He has
realized his idea, and the results are spread before the world. There is
hardly a family amongst us, which, in some of its branches, docs not ac-
knowledge with gratitude the benefit of his instructions and personal in-
fluence. You can hardly collect a company of intelligent young ladies
in any part of this city, without finding that a large portion of them, I
was going to say the most intelligent portion of them, were the pupils
of this school. But its influence has not ended here. From almost every
portion of our country, young ladies have resorted hither for instruction,
and of those who were to the manor born, a large number have been
allured away from us to become stars of the first magnitude in almost
every city in the land. The mother of the Gracchi pointed to her
sons as her jewels ; but I know no man among us who is so rich in this
sort of jewelry as Mr. Kingsbury. Five hundred of his pupils look upon
him with gratitude and veneration, and at this very moment are return-
ing thanks to the man whose whole life has been so successfully de-
voted to labors for their intellectual and moral improvement.

But I may not stop here. Though you, ladies, have had so much, you
have not had all of John Kingsbury. "While he has thus labored for you,
there has hardly been a benevolent effort undertaken in this city, which
has not felt the benefit of his wise and disinterested efficiency. Whether
a university was to be endowed, or a church to be established, or an
association to be lifted out of difficulties, or a society of young men to be
aided and directed in their labors to promote the cause of Christ, John
Kingsbury was the man to do it ; and now before you had fairly let him
go, the State has seized upon him, to carry forward the cause of educa-
tion, and raise the schools of Rhode Island to a point of eminence not yet
attained by any similar institutions in our land. Nihil tetigit quod non
ornavit — quod non cedijicavit. Such has been and is your honored instruc-
tor, and we come here to unite with you to-day to testify to the appre-
ciation in which he is held by all good men in the city of Providence.

Mr. Kingsbury, being called upon by President Wayland, to give an
account of the school, then narrated its history, and stated the principles
on which it had been conducted, in the following interesting address :

The task which I now assume, in giving the history of a school that
has rested entirely on a single individual, and that individual myself, is
one of extreme difficulty. The "quorum pars magna fui," must be too
prominent not to expose, me to censure. Yet relying on your kindness,

318 JO^J^' KINGSBURY.

I know of no other way but to proceed and use that little, but offensive
word, which may subject me to the charge of egotism.

Just thirty-two years ago, I was sitting one evening in yonder college
building, preparing for a morning recitation. A rap at the door, was
followed by the entrance of a gentleman then well known in this com-
munity, and still held in grateful remembrance by all vrho know how
much he did to give a healthful impulse to the cause of popular educa-
tion in this city. That gentleman was the late Mr. G. A. Dewitt. He
came to propose that I should become an associate principal with him in
the instruction of the Providence High School — an institution which he
had organized and which shared largely in the esteem of the public.
The proposition was accepted; and on the first day of April 1826, just
five months before I was graduated at Brown University, I entered upon
the duties of this engagement. In this school, which was conducted on
the monitorial system and which became very large, I remained nearly
two years. During this period numerous intimations were made to me
that a smaller and more select school for young ladies, was very much
needed. Propositions were made to me to commence such an one. But
as a separate school could not be established, without injuring the gentle-
man with whom I was associated, it was decided to make a separate depart-
ment in the High School exclusively for young ladies, and hence the name
*' Young Ladies' High School." This name, it should be remembered, vras
not then used to designate the highest grade of Public Schools. Such was
the origin of the school, whose thirtieth anniversary we celebrate to-da}'".

In the circular which was printed to announce the opening of this de-
partment of the High School — the only advertisement of any kind ever
sent forth to secure public attention — the following language was used to
express the leading idea : " Our object in the estabhshment of this depart-
ment, is, to afford young ladies such facilities for education, that they will
be under less necessity of spending abroad the most important period of
their lives ; a period in which a mother's judicious care is so necessary to
the formation of character. In this undertaking, we look for support only
among those, who wish their daughters to acquire a thorough education.
No attempt will be made to gain the approbation of such as would prefer
showy and superficial accomplishments, to a well regulated mind."

It is hardly necessary to add that the enterprise was regarded as some-
what chimerical, and that many were ready to predict that it would end in
failure. How well it has succeeded, it is not for me to say. It is quite
certaiA, that whatever measure of success may seem to others to have
been secured, my own expectations and hopes have never been realized.
No one knows so well as myself, what have been the defects of the school.
Indeed every successive day has caused them to be more clearly revealed
to me. Yet injustice to myself, I may say that I have struggled con-
stantly to remedy these deficiencies ; and so far as they have remained
to this hour, it has been owing rather to the want of ability on my part,
than to the want of an intense desire to remove them. I am happy to
believe that it is the just appreciation of this desire and effort to make a

JOHN KINGSBURY. 3I9

good school, which has resulted in the continued favor of this community
to the present time.

The number of scholars was at first limited to thirty-six ; but the ac-
commodations allowing it, the number was soon increased to forty. Three
more were added after the erection of the present building, and forty-
three has been the fixed number ever since. No pressure of circum-
stances has ever induced me to add a single one beyond the prescribed
number, except when by some mistake or misapprehension a member of
the school was upon the point of being excluded. In such a case, the
individual has been received as a supernumerary and gratuitous scholar.
At the end of six months, the complement of scholars was full. Since
this period, there has always been a list of applications in advance of the
full number, varying from tu'cnty to sixty. "When I decided to bring
my connection with the school to a close, there were thirty-two names on
this list. The admissions for the whole period have been Jive hundred
and ^fifty-seven. Eighty of these have died, of whom forty were married.
Two hundred and eight3'^-two have been married ; consequently two hun-
dred and seventy-five remain single. It should be added, however, to
prevent mistake, that a large part of these have scarcely yet reached a
mature age. Eighty-one of the whole number have been named Mary,
sixty-one Sarah or Sally, and fifty-one EUzabeth or Eliza.

For the last ten years I have been instructing the second generation.
No circumstance is more grateful to me than the fact that almost every
individual of this class, old enough and sufficiently near to attend school,
has become or has sought to become a member of the school. By no
persons has there been more regret expressed at my withdrawal from the
office of instructor, than by my former scholars who wish to commit
their daughters to my care.

To those who are familiar with public sentiment in regard to education
now, but who know — except as a matter of history — little of the change
which has taken place during the last thirty years, the establishment and
successful operation of a school like this, may seem a very small affair.
Could we, however, place them at the beginning of this series of years
and with them trace all the circumstances adverse to success, it would be
much easier to make that impression which is so necessary to a perfect
understanding of the subject. Allow me to give two or three illustra-
tions for this purpose. At that period the range of studies in female
education was very limited in comparison with that of the present. In
addition to the elementary branches, a little of History, a smattering of
French, and a few lessons in painting or embroidery, were thought to be
sufficient for the education of girls. The study of the Latin Language,
of Algebra, of Geometry, and of the higher English branches, was intro-
duced into few schools out of the city of Boston, and it was thought
visionary to attempt the study of them here. In fact it was hardly pos-
sible to escape ridicule in making the experiment. Even the boys in the
street were sometimes heard to say in derision, "there goes the man who
is teaching the girls to learn Latin." I need not say how great a change

320 JOHN KINGSBURY.

has taken place in this respect. What was then thought to be extrava-
gant and visionary is now a very common-place matter, and an approved
and established fact.

The subject of vacations will furnish another illustration. Thirty years
ago, the public schools were allowed the Friday after each quarterly ex-
amination. Thus the enormous amount of just four days in the year, in
addition to the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, was allowed for vaca-
tion. Private schools generally had no vacation at all. Such was the
state of public opinion that in the organization of this school, it was not
deemed politic to take more than four weeks vacation at first, and this
was thought by some persons to be an unwarrantable liberty. The same
public opinion will not now be satisfied with less than eight weeks vaca-
tion even in public schools.

The terms for tuition in private schools will furnish still another illus-
tration. Thirty years ago the price of tuition in the highest classical
school in this city, was five dollars a quarter. 1 had the temerity to
charge twelve and a half dollars for the same time, or fifty dollars a year ;
and what is most marvellous, teachers were the most offended at the in-
novation. They did not perceive that if the experiment proved success-
ful, it would be a benefit to them ; and if unsuccessful it could do them
no harm. Accordingly the teacher who felt himself most aggrieved by
the extravagant price of tuition, could at the end of two years have as
many scholars at ten dollars a quarter as he had previously taught at
half that sum ; and thus was so much injured that his income was
doubled. I have never tried to avoid injuring teachers in this way.

It may be proper here to speak of the school-room and furniture. At
the outset, it was deemed important to arrange and furnish the school-
room in such a manner that the transition from well furnished homes to
the place of study, should not present the wretched contrast which had
been too common previous to that period. Frequently, a room set aside
as unfit even for trade or for mechanical purposes, was selected and fitted
up in the cheapest manner, as the place where the daughters of our richest
and most respectable people were to be instructed. Therefore, in order
to avoid this mistake, a building, which stood where the present one now
stands, and which had been used as a school-room by the venerable Oliver
Angell of this city, was procured, and entirely refitted for the purpose.
The old desks and seats were removed, the walls were neatly papered,
the whole floor was carpeted — a luxury- until then unknown in this coun-
try so far as I have been able to learn — and the room was furnished with
desks covered with broadcloth, and with chairs instead of stiff backed
seats. Some very excellent people lifted up their hands in astonishment,
and said that it was a pity to have so much money wasted ! That this
furniture would need to be renewed so often that the expense could not be
sustained ! The novelty of such a school-room attracted many visitors,
not only from this city but from abroad. One gentleman from Kentucky,
being in Hartford, came here solely to see it ; and it was not till the ex-
ample was followed in many places, and when even our public schools

JOHN KINGSBURY. 321

had undergone a great change in this respect, that this room ceased to
be an object of attraction.

The old room, however, was low studded and badly ventilated. There-
fore, at the end of twenty years, and in accordance with the increased
knowledge of physiology and school architecture, the old building gave
place to the present structure ; which for beauty, convenience, comfort
and health, is supassed by few, if an}^, in the country. So great was the
regard for the old building on the part of some of the earlier members
of the school, that it was, out of deference to that regard, taken down
and much of it burned, lest, if it should be removed, it might be occupied
as a residence by some degraded specimens of humanity. As beautiful
as the new room is, I have been told by some of the earlier scholars, that
the effect on their mhids is not so great as that which was produced by
their first entrance into the old one. The present room, though a great
improvement on the former one, is by no means so far in advance of the
times as was the old. Indeed it would have been a needless extrava-
gance to have made it so. And here it may be proper to say that the desks
and chairs, which were thought to be an expenditure so extravagant and
wasteful at the organization of the school, are still standing in the new
building. After having been used thirty years, they are so good, that
with proper care they may last many years longer.

A punctual and regular attendance at school, I have deemed a very
important element of success. As one of the means of accomplishing this
end, a record of every minute's lateness and absence has been kept from
the beginning ; and from this record it would be easy to shew every in-
dividual the exact amount of her deficiency. But as the reading of this,
would really " tell tales out of school," it shall be omitted on this occa-
sion. Let me rather add that a very large number have manifested a
praiseworthy zeal to keep their names free from any demerits. Some-
times this may have been carried too far ; but probably the number who
deserve any blame for their zeal in securing a perfect attendance, is very
small. A large number have attended an entire year without a single
mark for deficiency. And this may be considered quite an effort, when
it is said that all who were not in their seats, though they may have been
within the door or half-way from the door to their seats, have been
marked, at least one minute late. Several have attended two entire
years — one three years and one quarter, and another four years, without
a single mark of deficiency. This last individual was not late during the
whole of a course of nearly six years ; nor absent during this period, with
two exceptions — the one of five days, in her fifth school year, on account
of the death of friends — the other, of ten days, near the close of her
school, on account of her own sickness, by measles.

This young lady is one of the second generation, and the case is espe-
cially commended to the consideration of those who are inclined to sup-
pose that all virtue and true worth belong to past generations. Since
the commencement of the school, I have lost, at three different times,
eleven weeks, and have been late one minute. But as I was within the

U

322 ^^^^^ KINGSBURY.

door wlicn the clock finished striking, and as it has been the custom to
remit the dcTnerit for one minute's lateness, if that has been the only
mark against a scholar, I, therefore, take this, the only occasion which
'A-ill be presented to me, to ask for the removal of this one demerit. I
will promise never to repeat the offense under similar circumstances.
Shall it not be done ?

The question has often been asked whj', for many years, there have
been no examinations or exhibitions in this school. This question may
demand an answer. At the end of the first six months of its exist-
ence, there was a brief examination and exhibition, which was limited to
half a day. At the end of two years, a still more general and public one
took place, in a hall which was capable of holding three hundred per-
sons. The hall was filled to its utmost capacity. Afterwards, at intervals
of two or three years, three classes of five members in each, were, at the
time of leaving school, subjected to a critical examination for two or three
days, before committees of intelligent gentlemen, who were specially in-
vited to be present for this purpose, and who availed themselves of the
opportunity given them, to take an active part in the examination. Tes-
timonials expressing the results of these examinations were given by
these several committees. That which was presented after the examina-
tion of the first of these classes, is in the hand-writing of the distinguished
gentleman who presides on this occasion, and I will ask Professor Lin-
coln to read it.

Providence, Dec. 8th, 1831.
Mr. John Kingsbury : — •

Sir : — The undersigned, who have, for the last three days, attended the exami-
nation of the young ladies who have completed the course of study jjursued un-
der your instruction in the Young Ladies' High School, would do injustice to the
young ladies, and to yourself, as well as to themselves, if they did not communi-
cate to you the impression which they have received from the exercises which it
was their pleasure to witness.

The class was examined in Arithmetic, Algebra, as far as affected quadratic
equations, Plane Geometry, Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, the Philosophy of
Natural Ilistory, General History, the History of the United States, Logic, the
Philosophy of Rhetoric, Virgil's ^Eneid, Cicero's Orations, and English Com-
position, "We were informed that they had pureued also the study of Blair's
Rhetoric, Intellectual Philosophy, Watts on the Mind, Botany, Political Economy,
Moral Philosophy, and Natural Theology. In these latter departments of science
the time allotted for these exercises did not allow of our witnessing their pro-
ficiency.

The examination was conducted, on your part, with the manifest desire of pre-
Bcnting to the committee a full and candid exhibition, both of the acquisitions of
your pupils, and also of the modes of instruction under which those acquisitions
had been made. It was your wish that we should test their knowledge by any
questions which we miglu wish to propose. Having frequently availed ourselves
of this privilege, we feel a confidence in our opinions which could not otherwise
have been attained.

It is with gieat pleasure, that, under these circumstances, we are enabled to
stale that the young ladies evinced a thorough, free, and familiar acquaintance
with every branch of science in which they were examined. It was also evident
that they had so acquired knowledge as to expand and invigorate every power of
the mind, thus accomplishing the highest object of education. And we particu-
larly remarked that the thrilling desire to excel, by which they were animated,
seemed unalloyed with the least appearance of rivalry ; and that the confidence
in the certainty of their knowledge which their attainments justly conferred, was

JOHN KINGSBURY. 323

everywhere blended witli that refined delicacy of character which forms iho
highest ornament of the female sex.

In prcsentini;^ you with this wholly unsolicited testimonial, we assure you that
your success fully realizes our most sanguine expectations, and that wo know of
no situation whatever, In which our daughters could be placed under better ad-
vantages for moral and intellectual cultivation, than are enjoyed in your institution.
Allow us to add that we believe you would render a valuable service to the
cause of female education, by furnishing the public with an account of the mode
of instruction which you have pursued with such signal success.

Wo are, Dear Sir, with sentiments of great respect, your obedient servants,

F. Wavland, Wm. T. Grin.nell,
Z. Allen, Thos, T. Wateiiman,

Henry Edes, R. Elton.

After the third and last of these examinations, feeling that the charac-
ter of the school was sufficiently well known, and that there were many
disadvantages attending the more or less public display arising from these
occasions, I determined to throw open the school, at all times, to parents and
friends of education, and to discontinue all regular public examinations.

Upon no other subject has there been a greater diversity of opinion
among teachers, than that of emulation. While there are some minds
that will be incited to go forward by the mere love of what is
right, it is not so with mankind generally. God, himself, in his gospel,
has condescended to appeal to our hopes and fears, as well as to our love ;
and I have not hesitated to suppose that we, hereby, may learn a useful
lesson in adapting our instructions to the minds of the young. Though
I have ever endeavored to place before them the highest motive, regard to
the will of God, I have not hesitated, from the first to the last, to award,
not prizes, but testimonials for excellence in every department of the
school. These have been varied. Sometimes they have been graded
lists of names posted up in the school-room, giving the relative rank of
each scholar. At other times, they have been gold and silver medals, or
books, or a simple vignette of the interior of the school -room. These
have been the most effective for the longest period of time. I know that
I can appeal to my beloved pupils now present, to bear me out in saying,
that the desire to excel, however strong, has seldom, if ever, had a ten-
dency to produce the ill will of one towards another, or to mar the sense
of justice. There has never been a time when the judgment of the
school in reference to true excellence in any particular individual has not
been correct. The aggregate judgment has always been right.

It may be thought that the topic of government is too delicate for dis-
cussion on the present occasion ; and yet in its bearing on education, it
is second to none. There is no other, in which, after all my endeavors, I
have come so far short of my ideal. It has been my aim to have the gov-
ernment as strictly parental as possible, and so to govern that the school
might think that they were doing it all themselves.

I have endeavored to govern as little as the case would allow ; yet re-
garding an ungoverned school as necessarily a bad one, I have been com-
pellod, sometimes, to pursue such a course as has seemed to some unnec-
essarily rigid. In this respect, however, I am willing to appeal from the
school girl to the woman. It gives me great pleasure to know that many

324 JOHN KINGSBURY,

have already changed their opinions, and learned to approve what, m
their school days, they were inclined to condemn. There cannot be a
clearer deduction from the teachings of the past, than that no school can
exist anj'- great length of time, without requiring some things which will
be distasteful to the young, and which will clash with the current senti-
ments of much of what is called good society. For though the tendency
of such society is towards the largest liberty, yet this same society will
not long tolerate a school which is conducted on this principle.

But the time is passing, and I must not extend my remarks. Were I
to sum up, in few words, the characteristics of the school, or rather what
I have aimed to make these characteristics, a part of them would be the
following :

1. To have the moral sentiment of the school always right.

2. To have the scholars feel that no excellence in intellectual attain-
ments can atone for defects in moral character.

^ 3. To form exact habits, not only in study, but in every thing.

4. To have all the arrangements of the school such as are adapted to
educate woman.

5. To educate the whole number well, rather than to elevate a few to
distinction.

6. To train them to happiness and usefulness by a harmonious cultiva-
tion of all 'the powers of the mind, rather than to render them remarka-
ble for genius or intellect.

7. To make them intelligent and efficient without being prone to osten-
tation or pretension.

8. To make them feel that common sense is more valuable than litera-
ry or scientific culture.

9. To make elementary studies prominent throughout the whole course ;
so that spelling — old-fashioned spelling — and the higher ancient classics
have sometimes been contemporaneous studies.

There are those who regard the school as a successful one. If it has
been such as to justify this impression, some of the elements of that suc-
cess, in addition to those already given, are the following ; all of thera
having reference to myself.

1. Unremitting labor from the beginning to the present time.

2. Never being so satisfied with past or present success as to indulge a
tendency to inactivity.

3. Beginning every term with the same strong desire to make some
additional improvement, as I at first felt for success itself

4. Adopting every real improvement in education, whether it was de-
manded by public sentiment or not.

5. Rejecting every thing which did not approve itself to my judgment
after examination and trial, though it might be demanded by public senti-
ment

6. Never allowing the public to become better acquainted than myself
with educational interests, especially such as related to the education of
young ladies.

JOHN KINGSBURY.

325

7. Daily seeking the special aid of Heavenly wisdom and guidance.

And now at the end of thirty years, I find myself but imperfectly sat-
isfied with the result. Yet, as I look upon the long line of those, who
have been members of the school, as I behold them adorning the stations
of life allotted them by Divine Providence — whether or not I have been
instrumental in any degree in preparing them for these stations — I am
not unwilling to challenge the world to present a more intelligent, a more
eflScient, a wiser or a nobler band of women.

It has been well said, that though men die, institutions live. Though
I leave the Young Ladies' High School to-day, the institution lives. May
he who will assume the charge of it, meet with the same favor from this
community, that I have received, and may the results which he shall pro-
duce, be for more satisfactory both to himself and others, than those
which have attended my labors.

At the close of these remarks by Mr. Kingsbury, the following contri-
butions from those who had been members of the school, were read to the
audience by Professors Lincoln and Dunn, whose services in this respect,
added much to the interest of the occasion. * * *

EDUCATIONAL LABORS OF LOWELL MASON.

Lowell Mason, who is identified with the advancement of musical ed-
ucation in this country, was born inMedfield, Mass., January 8th, 1*792.
He early manifested a great love for music, and sung, and played on
various instruments, almost instinctively. In early youth, he com-
menced teaching ; for which, also, he manifested a strong inclination.

At the age of twenty, he removed from Massachusetts to Savannah,
Georgia, where, although engaged in other occupations, the teaching
of music, and the conducting of choirs and musical associations, both
vocal and instrumental, were leading objects of his attention. During
his residence in Savannah, he became deeply interested in Sabbath
School teaching, and was, for many years, the superintendent of a
large school, — the only one at that time, in the city ; and in which
all the different Christian denominations united. It was while en-
gaged in this school, that he formed those habits of intercourse with
children, which afterward proved so valuable, when teaching became
the d^ily occupation of his life, in the wide sphere of musical
instruction in our public schools.

In 1821, the Boston Handel and Haydn Collection of Church Mu-
sic, of which Dr. Mason was the sole editor, was first published ; and,
a few years afterward, several gentlemen of Boston, who had been,
for some time, engaged in efforts to introduce improvements in church
music, — some of whom had become personally acquainted with Dr.
Mason, and with the successful results of his musical labors, took
measures to obtain his aid and direction in the execution of their
plans. Proposals were accordingly made to him to remove to Boston,
which were finally accepted ; and in the summer of 1827, he took up
his residence in that city.

Dr. Mason now commenced the extensive teaching of vocal music
in classes, introducing, at once, that feature in musical teaching, which
had been but little known before, but which he had successfully pur-
sued in Savannah, the instruction of children ; training their voices
especially to the performance of the alto part in choral music. These
eflforts were highly successful : they resulted in the awakening of a

LOWELL MASON. „27

very general interest in musical instruction, and in preparing the way
for the formation of the Boston Academy of Music, and for the
introduction of music into schools, as an educational study.

Dr. Mason had already established a reputation as a successful
teacher, both of vocal and instrumental music, in which he had now
been engaged for sixteen or eighteen years, when an event occurred,
which not only changed his whole manner of teaching, but which led
him to a much wider and more comprehensive view of the subject of
musical instruction, than he had before entertained, and to juster con-
ceptions of the whole theory of education, as resting on a rational
and philosophical basis. We refer to the fact that he had now be-
come acquainted, for the first time, with the principles of instruction,
as developed by Pestalozzi, which, although at first with great reluct-
ance, he at length thoroughly embraced, and has, for nearly thirty
years, constantly and faithfully adhered to, and happily and suc-
cessfully illustrated.

For this clearer light on the subject of education. Dr. Mason was
indebted to the enlightened zeal, energy, and perseverance, in all edu-
cational improvements, of the late William C. Woodbridge, so ex-
tensively known, not only as a geographer but as an educator, whose
laboi-s, in both capacities, mark one of the prominent eras of the his-
tory of education in the United States. Mr. Woodbridge, while in
Germany and Switzerland, where he resided for several years, with
the view of becoming acquainted with the best methods of instruction,
although like Pestalozzi, he had given little personal attention to the
subject of music, became, from his own observation of its e^^cellent
influence on the pupils of Pestalozzian schools in general, and especially
in the institution of Fellenberg, at Hofwyl, thoroughly convinced
of its importance as a school exercise and an educational influence.
He accordingly procured all the information in his power respecting
it, and obtained the most approved text-books of school or class
voice-exercises and songs, as well as of elementary treatises on musical
instruction. Among these were the admirable songs of Nageli, and
the treatise by M. T. Pfeifter and H. G. Nageli, published at Leipzig,
1810, entitled " GesangUldungslehre nach Pestalozzischen Grundsd-
tzen.^'' These books by Nageli and others, which had been prepared
with particular reference to the legitimate influence of song in moral
culture and the training of the affections, Mr. Woodbridge not only
placed in the hands of Dr. Mason, but was at the trouble, himself,
to translate them, in part, and to furnish such explanations and direc-
tions as he had received personally from Pfeiffer, Nageli, Kriisi,
Fellenberg, Kubler, Gersbach, and others.

To those who know, fr-^ra their own experience, how difficult it is

328 LOWELL MASON.

for one wlio has, for many years, been successful as a teacher, and lias,
therefore, great confidence in some method of his own, to substitute
for it that of another, to those who have observed the slow progress
which has been made in the true art and science of teaching, notwith-
standing the greatly increased attention which has been given to the
subject of education, for the last quarter of a century,— to those who
know that, even at this day, the principles of Colburn's Arithmetic,
which were derived from Pestalozzi, are still rejected by many teachei's,
it will not seem surprising that it was, at first, no easy thing to convince
Dr. Mason that the new method was preferable to that of foregoing
rules, signs, tables, and definitions, to be committed to memory from
a printed tabular or book form, to which he had been so long accus-
tomed, and in the use of which he had attained to such success. But
the efforts of Mr. Woodbridge were untiring : they were pei-severed
in with such a constancy, zeal, and good humor, that, at last. Dr.
Mason consented to a proposed experiment of teaching a class, after
the Pestalozzian manner, provided one could be found for the special
purpose. Mr. Woodbridge and others who had become interested in
the subject, succeeded in the formation of a large class, of about two
hundred ladies and gentlemen, with the express view of bringing the
new method to the test of experience. The lessons were carefully
prepared, at first, with the assistance of Mr. Woodbridge, and were
given by Dr. Mason, with a success vastly greater than had ever before
attended any of his efforts. He was fully convinced of the practica-
bility and the fitness of the new method, as a mode of instruction
appealing to reason and common sense, not less than to theory and
truth, on educational principles. The same mode of teaching he soon
began to apply to juvenile classes, and with success corresponding to
that in the adult class referred to above.

In 1830, a lecture was given by Mr. Woodbridge, before the
American Institute of Instruction, on " Vocal Music as a branch of
Education," in the State House in Boston. Illustrations were given
by a class of Dr. Mason's pupils. A wider and more important field
of instruction was now opened, than had before been contemplated.
Dr. Mason^s juvenile classes, — which had already been taught gratuit-
ously, for several yeai-s ; he furnishing not only the tuition but also
the room, fuel, and all needful school apparatus, — now rapidly
increased in numbers, to such extent that thousands of children, of
both sexes, received more or less instruction in singing, and in the
knowledge of music. These classes were taught on the afternoons of
Wednesdays and Saturdays, so as to enable the children of the pub-
lic schools to attend : two or three classes, sometimes numberino-

LOWELL MASON. 329

altogether, from one to five hundred children, were accustomed to meet
at successive hours on the same day. The first juvenile concerts fol-
lowed. These were given by choirs of children, so numerous as to
fill the galleries of the Bowdoin street church.

Dr. Mason was now joined in these labors by Mr. George James
Webb ; and here it is proper to observe that the whole amount
received, as the proceeds of all the juvenile concerts, was given to
some charity ; neither of the instructors receiving any pecuniary com-
pensation whatever for their labors, until after the formation of the Bos-
ton Academy of Music, which, in part, at least grew out of these eftbrts.

The subject of music in schools was now taken up in good earnest,
by some of the best educators and teachers of Boston ; and instruc-
tion in singing was introduced, almost simultaneously, into the Mount
Vernon School, (female,) under the Rev. Jacob Abbott, the Chauncy-
Hall School, (male,) under Mr. G. F. Thayer, and the Monitorial
School, (female,) under Mr. GeoFge W. Fowle.

It would not be consistent with our present purpose to follow the
progress and wider diffusion of musical instruction and its genial in-
fluences, either on the character of education, or on the improving
and extending taste for music in the community at large. We can
merely glance at the auspicious establishment of the Boston Academy
of Music, and the subsequent introduction of music, as a regular
branch of instruction, in the public schools of Boston, whence it
rapidly extended throughout New England and the Union.

Under the patronage of the Boston Academy of Music, and under
the immediate direction of Messrs. Mason and Webb, various meas-
ures were taken for the improvement of musical education, by the
formation of permanent classes, the association of church choii*s, the
establishment of lectures, the periodical appointment of concerts,
schools for instrumental music, and the yet more extensive intro-
duction of vocal music in public and private schools.

We must not omit, in this connection, to state the fact that one of
the very first regular Teachers' Institutes ever held in our country,
was that held in Boston, in August, 1834, by the Academy, for "in-
struction in the methods of teaching music." In this class, which
was annually continued up to the year 1852, the Pestalozzian method
of teaching vocal music in classes, was regularly explained and
illustrated. Similar classes for teachers were soon established in
various places ; and it is, perhaps, owing to this fact that Pestalozzian
teaching came to be very extensively, though erroneously, regarded as
merely a method of musical instruction, rather than one of universal
application to all branches of study, in all stages of their progress.

330 LOWELL MASON.

In 183 Y, Dr. Mason visited Europe, for the principal purpose of
making himself personally acquainted with the best systems of teach-
ing music in actual use abroad. In Paris, he found Willielm's method
in use, and popular as taught in the schools of its author ; but this
being based entirely on those principles which Dr. Mason had, some
years before, reluctantly been compelled by his (jonvictions to aban-
don, and being merely a carefully prepared course of mechanical
training, could lay no claim to his attention. In Wurtemberg and
the northern parts of Switzerland, he became acquainted with Kiibler,
Gersbach, Fellenberg, and others ; — Pestalozzi and Nageli were no
more. The three first named pursued, to greater or less extent, the
inductive method ; and, from the observation of their modes of
teaching, and from personal communication with them, he became
more familiar with its practical application to music and to school
studies generally.

On his return from Europe, Dr. Mason had ample opportunities for
carrying out the principles of inductive teaching, in extensive appli-
cation to the instruction of his numerous classes ; and his methods
may not unjustly be mentioned as more rigorously exact and philo-
sophically just than even those adopted in the schools abroad in which
they were originally introduced. Pestalozzi himself, though fully
convinced of the value of music, as a means of intellectual and
moral training, was as little systematic in the practical and executive
part of teaching as in other branches, and attempted nothing beyond
a rudimental outline, suggestive rather than methodical, and designed
to be carried out by others possessed of a more patient spirit of ap-
plication, or of greater tact and skill. The suggestive views of Pes-
talozzi, Dr. Mason has carried further, perhaps, than any other
teacher has ever done ; and, through his exertions, the soundness and
practicability of these views, not less than their theoretic truth, have
been brought to the thorough test of daily experience in his teaching,
which was gratuitously conducted, as an experiment, for one entire
year, in one of the public schools of Boston, previous to its general
introduction, under his personal direction, in these schools, and in the
classes of the Academy. Another sphere of extensive experience of
the benefits resulting from Dr. Mason's application of Pestalozzian
principles to the processes of instruction, has been that of the
Massachusetts Teachers' Institutes, which he has attended, as lecturer
and instructor in music, from the commencement, under the direction
of the lion. Horace Mann, the first Secretary of the Massachusetts
Board of Education, through the secretaryship, also, of the Rev. Dr.
Sears, and, thus far, that of the present Secretary, the lion. George S.

LOWELL MASON. 33 1

Boutwell. In this form of teaching, Dr. Mason peculiarly excels.
His long continued experience as a practical teacher, his rare tact in
developing the vital principles of instruction in the simplest and
happiest manner, his endless variety of illustrations, his indefatigable
perseverance in tracking and exposing errors in thought or in theory,
his genial and humane humor, his playful sallies of wit, his kindly
sympathy with youth and childhood, his gentle yet impressive moni-
tory hints, and occasional grave reflections, give him an indescribable
power over his audience ; while the perfect simplicity and strictly
elementary character of his instructions evince the depths to which he
has penetrated, in tracing the profoundest philosophy of teaching.
Nor 16 his success limited to the single department which, in the
sessions of the institutes, falls nominally under his special care. His
wide and comprehensive views embrace the whole field of education,
and all its prominent subjects. The remark was justly made by the
Hon. Horace Mann, that it was well worth any young teacher's while
to walk ten miles to hear a lecture of Dr. Mason ; for in it he Avould
hear a most instructive exposition of the true principles of all teaching,
as well as that of instruction in music.

In 1855, the University of New York recognized the value of Dr.
Mason's labors in his more immediate professional sphere, by confer-
ring on him the honorary degree of Doctor in Music ; — the first
instance of such a degree being conferred by an American university ;
and Dr. Mason being the first American who ever received such an
honor from any quarter.

Dr. Mason owes his high reputation at home and abroad to the fact
that he has pursued his long and arduous career as a teacher, not merely
with an unparalled success, which has justly raised him to eminence, but
on broad and generous principles elevated far above all barely technical
or mechanical skill, displayed in mere flexibility of voice or dexterity
of finger. It is as an enlightened educator, who distinctly perceives
and eloquently pleads for the value and the power of music, as an
influence on human culture, that he stands prominently before his
country as one of its noble benefactors. And most assuredly he has
already reaped a large share of that reward of grateful feeling which
future generations will yet more fully express, as the children in our
common schools, and the worshipers in our churches, continue to
repeat the strains of chaste melody and skillful harmony for which our
whole community stands so deeply indebted to the labors of his daily
life.

The services which he has rendered to the cause of educa-
tion, in his instructive methods of developing the elements of all

332 LOWELL MASON.

culture, as well as of music, are deeply appreciated by the multitude
of young teachers who have enjoyed the privilege of listening to his
skillful expositions of theory and practice, in all their relations to the
daily duties of the teacher's life. The method which he has pursued
for the last twenty-five years has been of signal service in drawing out,
to a degree unknown before, the proper distinction existing in the
generic vocal principle of speech and song, and the relation which the
two-fold form sustains to itself, in its component elements. He has
been peculiarly successful in inculcating the beauty of a finished
articulation in song, and that of true expression in the tones of
emotion. While occupied with the claims o^ sound, however, he has
always recognized those of number and form, as correlatives ^n the
processes of culture. He has never pleaded the cause of music exclu-
sively, but always set it forth in its happy influence on all other
departments of mental discipline and development.

Dr. Mason's influence, through his published works, not less than
his personal instructions, has been in the highest degree conducive to
the cultivation of purity of taste, as an important element not only
in the aesthetic relations of musical art, but in all those of high, moral
culture and true elevation of character. The judgment and care with
which, in this relation, his selections of school songs have been com-
piled, are beyond praise. He has furnished, in those unpretending
little volumes, a treasury of the best simple melodies of many lands,
as these have been presented by eminent masters who have conde-
scended, (or rather risen,) to meet the heart of childhood in its thirst
for song ; and these beautiful strains of music he has accompanied
with words which speak of nature, of life, and of God, in the purest
forms of sentiment. To feel the full value of his labors in this de-
partment, we have but to glance, for a moment, at the low and
degrading character of too many of our popular, and even our school
songs. The noble office and mission of music, as an intended refiner
and purifier of the heart. Dr. Mason has never overlooked. Well has
he said,

"We fear that it is too often the case that music in school is
regarded not as having any thing to do with study, but as a mere
recreation or amusement. Valuable as it may be, even in this view,
we feel certain that, when introduced into schools, music should be
made a study, not only in itself considered, but as a correlative to all
school pursuits, and occupations. Unless the pupils are made more
cheerful, happy, kind, and studious, by the music lesson, it is not
properly given ; for these are some of the results which music was
obviously designed to secure."

^ii,^

I

J^^ C/P-T^/T^yT^ ^

..vk

of empk.

334 GEORGE B. EMERSON.

of his native town. During a part of the vacation of the following
winter, he taught, as a substitute for another, a school in Saco, Maine.
The members of this school were mostly the children of people em-
ployed in the saw-mills, on Saco river, at that time a rude, intem-
perate, and violent class of men. Mr. Emerson had an opportunity
of seeing here the worst form of school-keeping ; a form which, happily,
can hardly be said to exist at the present day. It was considered
raanly to resist the lawful authority of the teacher, as this savage
feeling was encouraged and applauded by the degraded parents. The
previous winter, the master of the school had been seized by the
larger boys — in those days appropriately designated the Old Boys —
was dragged from the school-house, and made to ride upon a rail ;
the favorite mode, in that region and at that time, of celebrating a
victory of insurgent pupils over their teacher. Mr. Emerson was then
a tall, slender youth of seventeen ; but he did not hesitate to run the
hazards of accepting the oflSce of master, and endeavoring to govern
this unruly body of youths, many of whom were older than himself,
and, like all such desperados, large, strongly built, and of powerful
muscular development. The means to which he trusted for gaining
the mastery over these rude and untaught spirits, were disinterested-
ness and purity of purpose, and that moral courage which, in the
long run, always carries the day over brute force. Nor did he mis-
calculate the efficacy of these principles of school government. His
influence over the school strengthened every day, but the labors and
trials of his position were exhausting and severe — quite too much so
for his age and physical powers. He was relieved, however, from
them, before the school period terminated, by the accidental burning
down of the ruinous building in which the school was kept.

The next winter, Mr. Emerson's health had suffered 'so much by
overtasking his energies, and neglecting the laws of health — which
few students in those days knew any thing about, and which were not
taught in any department of the university — that he was unable to
teach. He had passed many months without a reasonable amount
of sleep, exercise, air, and recreation ; and nature never permits her
sacred laws to be disobeyed with impunity. He was paying the
penalty which she invariably exacts.

In the winter of 181 6-1 Y, Mr. Emerson taught a school, for ten
weeks, at Bolton, Mass. The moral tone and intellectual character
of the people of this pleasant town were unusually high. This su-
periority was due, in no small measure, to the influence of the excel-
lent Mr. Allen, for many years the minister of the town. Mr. Allen
was one of the most honest and conscientious men that ever lived.

GEORGE B. EMERSON. 335

He was clear-headed and simple-hearted ; eminently kind and social
in his feelings; hospitable to the stranger, and ever welcome to young
and old. lie was naturally a humorist, and this natural tendency
was, perhaps, increased by the circumstance that he remained un-
married, lie was fond of the fields, and prided himself on the ex-
cellence of his orchard. The casual visitor at his house was sure of
hearty welcome ; and a plate of the most tempting apples, with
another of the delicious " dough-nuts " of Lucy, the old gentleman's
excellent housekeeper, was invariably placed before him. Mr. Allen
would have been a favorite of the Spectator. He was thoroughly
devoted to his people's highest good, and they repaid him with a
warmth of fervent affection, not always witnessed in the relation be-
tween parish and minister in these latter days. Among the objects
of his constant care, none stood higher than the schools. He always
attended the examinations, and took a formal part in putting ques-
tions to the scholars ; and his kindly countenance and genial man-
nei*s, on these occasions, were delightful both to master and scholar.
He was always on the side of the master who desired to do his duty,
and from him the anxious and weary teacher received the kindest
and wisest counsel, and the most efficient support. Under these cir-
cumstances, it is not surprising that the schools of Bolton were favor-
able specimens of New England common schools, nor that an un-
usually large proportion of the men and women educated in them,
have proved to be useful and prominent members of society.

In the autumn of 1817, after leaving college, Mr. Emerson took
charge of a small private academy, in Lancaster, Mass. His con-
stitution, naturally good, and strengthened by the out-door employ-
ments of his early life, had been much broken by excessive and untimely
study. His eyes were in such a condition that his physician forbade
the use of them, except in cases of extreme necessity ; and his lungs
and nervous system were seriously affected. The labors of the school
were exhausting, and the number of the scholars increased rapidly
from about twenty to over fifty, many of them being entirely under
Mr. Emerson's charge, out of school as well as in. But he was sur-
rounded by kind and intelligent friends ; the society of the place was
cultivated and cordial ; and he received, from all quarters, that sym-
pathy, co-operation, and support that are most cheering to the heart
of the faithful teacher. His principles of discipline and government
at that time, however, were widely at variance with those which
further experience, and a profound insight into the human heart,
led him afterward to adopt. He relied upon the strong arm, and
the excitement of emulation by prizes, medals, and distinction, all of

336 GEORGE B. EMERSON.

which ho subsequently rejected and but very seldom resorted to.
Many teachers, still, would hesitate to adopt thS system to which
Mr. Emerson's moral judgment finally gave an unhesitating preference
and approval. The question is not yet fully decided ; but it may
safely be asserted, that if all teachers had the intellectual accomplish-
ments, and the weight of personal influence, which distinguish him
pre-eminently, there would be no doubt left that the system which
employs only lofty and disinterested motives in the training of the
young, would infinitely exalt the style and spirit of education, both
public and private.

In 1819, Mr. Emerson was invited to accept the ofiice of tutor in
the mathematical department of Harvard University, under the late
Professor John Farrar, and he afterward performed, for a short time,
the duties of Greek tutor. The leisure of a college tutorship, con-
trasted with the unintermitted labors of the preceding two years of
teaching, seemed to Mr. Emerson like a long and pleasant vacation.
He was associated with the ablest men in the literary class of that
time. It was in the glorious academic days, when the good Dr.
Kirkland had surrounded himself with a brilliant circle of professors.
The genial and gracious Farrar lectured with the most attractive elo-
quence on physics and astronomy ; Everett, in the early flush of his
manly genius, and his vast learning, expounded the beauties and splen-
dors of Greek literature, and gave rich promise of what he was des-
tined to become; the elegant, accomplished, conscientious Frisbie,
who had taught the Latin language and literature, with the
enthusiasm of genuine scholarship, now devoted himself with
equal ardor to the department of moral philosophy and natural the-
ology; these eminent men, and others scarcely less distinguished,
made the academic society, to which Mr. Emerson was now admitted,
brilliant, exciting, and instructive in the highest degree. No wonder
that his mind received a strong impulse, and that his tastes for elegant
letters and a life of devotion to intellectual pursuits were confirmed.

Mr. Emerson now had the opportunity he desired of reviewing the
experience of the previous years, and re-examining the principles upon
which influence and discipline, in the working of a high system of
education, should be grounded ; and our young tutor, now only two
and twenty years of age, came to the conclusion, that the use of the
ferule or the rod in school, except in extreme cases of obstinate re-
sistence to authority, should never be resorted to ; that only ignor-
ance, or stupidity, or insensibility, proved the use of such a coarse
and degrading method of government habitually necessary ; and that
the excitement of emulation, though sanctioned by the authority of

GEORGE B. EMERSON.

337

Cicero and Quintillian, is contrary to some of the clearest principles
of the Gospel, and he resolved should an opportunity occur, in
his future career as a teacher, to appeal, in the discipline of a school,
to a different and higher set of motives than those which were uni-
versally resorted to.

In 1821, the desired opportunity presented itself. The English
nigh School for boys, then called the English Classical School, was
established that year by the town of Boston, for the purpose of furnish-
ing a better intellectual preparation for the duties of hfe to the youth
of the town who were not intended foi* a college course. Of
this school, Mr. Emerson was chosen principal, with authority to de-
termine the course and methods of instruction and discipline; and he
soon satisfied himself that the sentiment of honor, to which he ap-
pealed, was not only in itself a higher motive of conduct, but that 'it
was, just in that proportion, a more effective means of influence with
the boys than the fear of punishment. He endeavored to check, so
far as he could, the feeling of emulation ; believing that it is always
strong enough without artificial excitement ; and he addressed him-
self to the conscience and the principle of duty, the desire of making
a good preparation for the duties of life, and the pleasure of acquiring
knowledge and of exercising the intellectual faculties.

While Mr. Emerson was connected with the High or Classical School,
he had the good fortune to assist in bringing to perfection, and produc-
ing before the world, the most valuable school-book which has appeared
in our age — the Mental Arithmetic of his fi'iend, the late "VYarren Col-
burn. Mr. Colburn, as he prepared the book, submitted it daily, lesson by
lesson, to the test of practice in a private school for boys, which he
was then teaching. He proposed to Mr. Emerson to send him the
manuscript as it was written, and that the lessons should be given to
the classes in Mr. Emerson's school, the pupils of which were more
numerous and advanced than his own. The ^^First Lesaons^^ were
thus submitted, lesson by lesson, by another teacher, to the same test
which he was himself applying. Very few changes were suggested,
beyond a little amplification in some of the sections. The whole ad-
mirable work existed complete in the mind of the author. It had
grown out of his thoughts, and was perfected by his experiments.
But it was a great advantage to Mr. Colburn to have the hearty co-
operation and the practical judgment of so able a teacher as Mr.
Emerson, and one so earnestly engaged in making improvements in
the methods of education ; and the first public exhibition of its effect
upon the powers of the learner was indeed a grateful triumph to the
modest and ingenious author. y

338 GEORGE B. EMERSON.

In 1823, Mr. Emerson gave up the Classical School, with
great reluctance, and opened a strictly private school for girls.
The result showed, however, the wisdom of the change. A most
interesting and important field of labor was opened, and the
excellent influence of this admirable school, in enlarging and
elevating the system of female education, has long been felt, and its
efiects will never cease, in the character of the society of Boston, and
the wide extent of the social relations of the capital. Mr. Emei-son,
while deliberating upon the questions that had been pressed upon
him, consulted a dignitfed and excellent lady, Mrs. Eliot, who had
always taken a warm interest in his career. Without hesitation, she
advised him to become a teacher of girls, and " to do all in his power
to show them how to go there " — pointing up toward Heaven ; and
this advice, thus strikingly enforced, had great influence in determin-
ing Mr. Emerson's course. In the spirit of this christian counsel, Mr.
Emerson always addressed his pupils as immortal beings, preparing
for life in this world, and a higher life to come, and grounded his
authority as a teacher upon the authority of Jesus Christ. His con-
stant aim was, first of all, to fill the heart of the pupils with reverence
for the laws of God, whether revealed in the Scriptures or discovered
by reason ; next, to form habits of self-control, punctuality, and order,
and to establish a profound sense of accountability to God for the
proper use of all the talents with which He had been pleased to en-
dow them. Again, he led them to cultivate the kindly feelings, and
those courteous manners, which belong to the character of the high-
bred gentlewoman. He aimed to make them good scholars, not so
much for the sake of scholarship, strictly so called, as for the eff'ects
of literary culture upon the taste, the refinement, and the elevation of
the mind and character of woman. As to the subjects taught, it was
the earnest purpose of Mr. Emerson to fill the minds of his pupils
with that kind of knowledge which should enable them to perform,
nobly, all the duties to which a woman may be called — the duties of
her social position, the duties that devolve upon her as wife and
mother, and which relate to the physical, mental, and spiritual nature
of those intrusted to her forming care — not neoflectinor such studies
as should supply her with resources for pure and elevated enjoyment
in solitude. Such were the lofty aims and motives with which Mr.
Emerson entered upon the great and sacred task which lay before
him in his new career. The community is now reaping the rich fruits
of his long, conscientious, and most successful devotion to this exalted
duty — the great labor of his life. He continued in the work until 1856
— a period of more than a quarter of a century, during every year of which

GEORGE B. EMERSON. ggg

more pupils were offered him, on his own terms, than he could
receive.

Besides his direct labors as a teacher, Mr. Emerson's talents have
been devoted to other, but kindred objects, with remarkable efficiency.
In 1827 the Mechanic's Institution was formed for the purpose of ex-
citing a taste for science, as connected with the mechanic arts,
and of elevating the tone of thought and inquiry among the young
men in that city. Dr. Nathaniel Bowditch was first president of the
society, and Mr. Emerson was first corresponding secretary, and was
chosen to give the opening address. No lectures were given during
the first year. In the second, Daniel Webster gave the introductory
discourse, and Mr. Emerson gave the first course of lectures ; six lec-
tures upon elementary mechanics. So great was the favor with
which this first attempt to give popular and scientific instruction by
means of lectures was received, that no hall could be found large
enough to contain the persons who applied for tickets, and the intro-
ductory discourse and all the lectures of this winter were repeated to
crowded audiences. Mr. Emerson was afterward often invited to de-
liver these lectures, or others, before the lyceuras of the neighboring
towns. But he felt that all his time was no more than sufficient to
prepare for the instruction to be given in his own school, and he uni-
formly declined the invitations.

In 1830, the American Institute of Instruction was formed by teach-
ers and friends of education. Mr. Emerson took an active part in its
formation and in all its operations, was its first secretary, and afterward,
for many years, its president. The meetings of the Institute were
held wherever it was thought they would have the best effect, or
■where the most urgent invitations were given by the inhabitants.
At these meetings, the condition of the common schools, as w^ell as
of all others, was a constant subject of consideration ; and, in 1836,
a memorial was presented to the Legislature of Massachusetts, drawn
up by Mr. Emerson, as chairman of a committee appointed for that
purpose. The object of the memorial was to urge the importance of
doing something by legislation for the improvement of the common
schools, especially by raising the qualifications of the teachers ; but
apparently no effect was produced at the moment. It was referred
to a committee, but no action was taken upon it. In 1837, another
memorial, also written by Mr. Emerson, was presented to the legis-
lature, in which the important measure of creating a superintendent
of the common schools w^as strongly urged, and modes by which
such an officer might exercise a beneficial influence were pointed out.

These repeated memorials to the legislature, and other causes then

340 GEORGE B. EMERSON.

at work in tlie commonwealth, fixed the pubhc attention upon the
subject, and led to the establishment of the Board of Education, of
which the Hon. Horace Mann, then president of the senate, was the
first secretary. The influence of the Board, and the efficient labors
of Mr. Mann, and of his successors, are fully appreciated by an en-
lightened public sentiment. Of the other causes above alluded to, one
of the most powerful was, undoubtedly, the appearance of a series of
letters upon the schools of Massachusetts, by the late Hon. James G.
Carter. These letters were extensively circulated and read ; they
were republished in the British Provinces, where, as well as at home,
they made a profound impression. Other causes, co-operating to-
ward the same result, were the publications of Rev. T. H. Gallaudet
and W. C. Woodbridge, the labors of Rev. S. R. Hall, the lectures of
the Rev. Charles Brooks, and the discussions which had taken place,
from year to year, in the Institute of Instruction.

In 1831, Mr. Emerson delivered before the Institute a lecture on
Female Education ; and, in 1842, one on Moral Education. In 1843,
lie wrote the Second Part of the " School and the Schoolmaster " —
the Rev. Dr. Potter writing the First. This work was written on the
invitation of the late James Wadsworth, of Geneseo, N. Y., one of
the most enlightened friends of universal education, who paid the
expense of printing and distributing an edition of fifteen thousand
copies. An act of kindred munificence in the late Hon. Martin
Brimmer, of Boston, who married a daughter of Mr. Wadsworth,
placed a copy of this work in each of the district schools in Massa-
chusetts.

From the first establishment of the Normal Schools in Massachusetts,
Mr. Emerson took the greatest interest in their success, and was a
frequent visitor. In 1848, he was appointed a member of the Board
of Education, and continued to be a most active and useful officer in
that position, until he closed his own school, and left the United
States for a tour in Europe, in 1855. For two years, 1847 and 1848,
Mr. Emerson allowed himself to be chosen upon the Boston School
Committee. During these years he gave much time to the examina-
tion of the schools, and made strenuous efforts to have the medals
for girls, abolished. After deliberate consideration, and full discus-
sion, the committee voted to discontinue these medals. This success
was, however, only for a time. The measure was defeated, and the
medals restored through the management of an individual who took
pains to go round to the members of the committee, previous to the
meeting at which the vote was to be taken, and persuade them to
promise either to stay away or to vote for the restoration of the

GEORGE B EMERSON.

341

medals. On his way to the meeting Mr. Emerson met one of the
committee coming away. On being questioned, the gentleman con-
fessed that his remaining would be of no use, as he had promised, if
he voted at all, to vote for the medals. On entering the meeting, Mr.
Emerson was surprised to find most of his friends absent. A vote
was immediately passed which precluded all discussion upon the ques-
tion, and Mr. Emerson was defeated, without being allowed to say one
word in defense of his measure. This was a serious disappointment
to Mr. Emerson, as he had long thought that there was little pro-
priety in urging preparation for the sacred duties of a mother, and
the formation of the quiet, disinterested, and self-sacrificing character,
which is to gladden, enlighten, and bless a Christian home, by the
spirit of rivalry and the love of distinction, which are fostered by
medals. ^

In 1830, the Boston Society of Natural History was formed. Mr.
Emerson was one of a few gentlemen who were accustomed to meet
at the study of Dr. Walter Channing, and who at length obtained
from the legislature an act of incorporation, and thus were the found-
ers of the society. Of this society, which has grown up to be one of
the most important scientific institutions of Boston, Mr. Emerson was,
for many years, the president. During this period, the Botanical
and Zoological Survey of Massachusetts was recommended by the
society as a proper complement to the Geological Survey, which had
been made by Prof. Hitchcock. Mr. Emerson was made chairman
of the commission, appointed by Governor Everett, to conduct the
survey ; and, in fulfillment of the duty with which he was charged, he
carried the reports of those associated with him through the press,
and, in 1837, made his report upon the trees and shrubs of Massachu-
setts. This was the first of the state surveys. Mr. Emerson's volume
is not only of great practical utility to the material interests of Mass-
achusetts, but is written with such abundant and minute knowledge
of the subject, and such beauty of style, that it has become a classic
in scientific literature.

"While a member of the Board of Education, Mr. Emerson sug-
gested and drew up the act of the legislature, which originated the
State Scholarships, and recommended the useful measure of granting
the aid of the state to the pupils attending the normal schools. In
1819, he was the secretary of the Cambridge branch of the Phi Beta
Kappa Society. He was early elected a member of the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences, and for several years was its corres-
ponding secretar3\

To a mind of such liberal culture and large experience, a visit to

342 GEORGE B. EMERSON.

Europe could not fail to be the source of lasting interest and the
greatest delight. But, though Mr. Emerson had fairly entitled him-
self, by the unremitting and various labors of so many years, to what-
ever of respite and amusement such a visit affords to the traveler,
he neglected no opportunity of gaining information upon the
subjects connected with education in the Old World, and of per-
suing his favorite sciences, and the branches of elegant literature, to
which his leisure time — if his time could ever be characteiized by
that term — had always been consecrated. In Germany, he visited
and carefully examined the normal schools and the gymnasia ; and
scrutinized the processes of teaching, and the branches taught, from
the very beginning to the end of the course. In Rome, which he
reached in January, 1856, he immediately began to study the plants
which were in bloom among the ruins of the Colosseum, and of the
palaces of the Caesars, and over the Campagna, in every direction from
the Eternal City. He continued this fescinating occupation until the
latter part of April, when he left Rome for Naples. Here he renewed
his pursuits in the Botanic Garden, on Vesuvius, and the old volcan-
ic mountains, which give such a striking character to these classic
regions. He kept up with the vegetation, as he returned to Rome,
and until he left that city, verifying every plant which came into
flower in Cicero's villa, and Horace's farm, and ancienf Veii, and
wherever else he went. He was assisted in these beautiful investiga-
tions by an excellent English botanist at Rome, and by Prof. Rolfe,
attached to the Pope's Botanic Garden. At Naples he was kindly
assisted by the venerable Prof. Tenore ; and, as he traveled back
from Naples to Rome, he kept his carriage filled with plants freshly
gathered all along the road, and his herbarium contains specimens
from every famous spot along that route, so peopled with the most in-
teresting historical, and classical associations. On his return to Rome,
in May, he resumed his investigations ; but Nature had been so rapid
that it was impossible to examine all the plants. On a leisurely
journey from Rome to Florence, he visited the Botanical Gardens in
several of the old Etruscan towns, and greatly astonished the gar-
deners, to whom he was introduced as an American, by speaking Italian,
and discoursing upon the natural orders and their characteristic genera.
Mr. Emerson did not neglect the classical and historical objects of
interest, in every part of Italy, and the wonderful treasures of art.
He explored the Roman Catacombs, and visited the sites of many of the
old Latin cities, and studied their ruins with the appreciating eye of
the well-trained scholar.

GEORGE B. EMERSON. 343

Mr. Emerson lias returned from his foreign travels, in full intellect-
ual and physical vigor. True to the instincts of his nature, he still
takes an active interest in all that concerns science and letters,
and the cause of education in the old commonwealth. On the death
of the lamented Judge Kinnicutt, of Worcester — who, to numerous
other public services, gave, for many years, his time, and judgment,
and faithful attention to the affairs of the Board, as their treasurer —
Mr. Emerson was chosen to succeed him.

We have thus inadequately sketched the labors of this great mas-
ter of education. Such labors are not so prominently brought before
the pubHc eye as those of the great advocate, or the statesman ; but
they are of at least equal consequence to the well-being of the com-
munity, for they lie at the very foundation of the social edifice.

CALVIN ELLIS STOWE. .

Calvin Ellis Stowe, whose labors in behalf of common schools
and teachers' seminaries, in addition to the constant and pressing
demands on his time by professional duties in college and theological
schools, entitle him to an honorable place in the history of American
Education, was born at Natick, Mass., April Cth, 1802.

His ancestors came from London to Massachusetts, in 1634, and
settled in Roxbury. On the records of Roxbury church are still to
be seen, in the hand-writing of the Apostle Eliot, the following
entries : —

"John Stowe. He arrived at N. E. the 7th of the 3d month,
anno 1634. He brought his wife and 6 children ; Thomas, Elizabeth,
John, Nathaniel, Samuel, Thankful."

" Elizabeth Stowe, the wife of John Stowe. She was a very godly
matron, a blessing, not only to her family, but to all the church.
When she had led a christian conversation a few years among us, she
died and left a good savor behind her."

The descendants of this worthy couple have, from the beginning,
belonged to the class of industrious, frugal. God-fearing yeomanry,
the bone and muscle of New England society.

His -father, a farmer, died in July, 1808, leaving the family desti-
tute. His mother, a woman of energy and judgment, managed,
with difficulty, to maintain herself and her children. Calvin attended
a good district school, taught for a portion of the year by a student
of Harvard College, and had access to a parish and social library, of
which privileges he made good use.

At twelve years of age, he was apprenticed to a paper-maker,
where he remained for four years. At the end of that tijne, having
managed to get together a little money, with that almost desperate
resolution to gain an education which has characterized so many poor
New Etigland boys, he spent it in paying his expenses during two
years' study at Bradford Academy.

Two years afterward, in November, 1820, some members of Dr.
Payson's church, in Portland, Me., having furnished the means, he
entered Gorham Academy, to fit for college ; and, after remaining
there ten months, entered Bowdoin College, in September, 1821, un-
der the same patronage.

^

V

CALVIN ELLIS STOWE. 345

lie graduated, in due course, September, 1824, with the first
honors of his class ; and remained at college one year, as librarian
and tutor. Entering Andover Theological Seminary, in 1825, he
graduated in 1828, and remained two years longer, being employed
as assistant in Professor Stuart's department, and editing, during part
of the time, the Boston Recorder, the oldest religious newspaper in
the United States.

In October of 1830, Professor Stowe commenced his long career
as a collegiate instructor, being then inaugurated Professor of Lan-
guages at Dartmouth College. While here, in 1832, he married
EHzabeth, daughter of Rev. Dr. Tyler. She died in August, 1834,
leaving no children.

Professor Sto\ve's reputation for learning and ability already stood
high ; and, when Dr. Lyman Beecher was invited to the presidency
of Lane Theological Seminary, Professor Stowe was offered, and
accepted, the Professorship of Biblical Literature in the new Semi-
nary, in 1833. The financial disasters of 1837, as is well known,
severely crippled the resources of the seminary, and during some
years its officers received httle or nothing on account of salaries.
They however clung to their posts, although without private resources,
and, by resolute though distressing self-sacrifice, maintained the oper-
ations of the institution until better times returned, and their scanty
incomes were partially restored.

While in this institution, Professor Stowe became convinced that
advanced professional schools were out of place, and hopelessly
inutile, in a community such as that of the West of that day ; and
seeing that it was common schools that were wanted, and quickly
recognizing the importance of those operations for their improve-
ment, in which Nathan Guilford, Samuel Lewis, Dr. Drake, Dr.
Aydelotte, Dr. McGufFey, and their companions, were pioneers, he at
once took cordial and strong hold with them ; advising and consult-
ing, speaking and writing, wherever occasion served. Professor Stowe
was not ambitious of prominence or office, and was well satisfied to
act the quieter and more useful part of a private adviser and laborer.

In January, 1836, Professor Stowe married Harriet E., daughter
of Rev. Dr. Lyman Beecher. In May of the same year, he departed
for Europe, his primary errand being to select a library for Lane Semi-
nary. Some friends of education, knowing of this journey, took
such measures that the legislature gave him an official appoint-
ment as agent to examine European schools, and especially those of
Prussia, and voted a small sum in payment of expenses. He re-
turned in 1837, having been very successful in accomplishing both

346 CALVIN ELLIS STOWE.

these ofBces; and drew up and presented his celebrated ^^ Report on
Elementary Education in Europey

The Legishiture of Ohio distributed this Report to every school
district in the state, and it was republished and extensively circulated
by the legislatures of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Massachusetts, North
Carolina, Virginia, and elsewhere. Its influence was every where
favorable, and strongly marked ; and not a little of the advancement
in common schools, during the last twenty years, may be traced to
that report. The exposition given of the thoroughness, completeness,
and comprehensiveness of the system of primary public instruction in
Prussia and Wirtemberg, commanded the admiration of educators
and statesmen, and stimulated both to the establishment of institu-
tions, organized and conducted with special reference to communica-
ting a knowledge of the science and art of education. Professor
Stowe thus sums up the character of the system in reference to the
particular wants of Ohio.

" The striking features of this system, even in the hasty and imperfect sketch
which my limits allow me to give, are obvious even to superficial observation.
No one can fail to observe its great completeness, both as to the number and
kind of subjects embraced in it, and as to its adaptedness to develop every
power of every kind, and give it a useful direction. What topic, in all that is
necessary for a sound business education, is here omitted ? I can think of noth-
ing, unless it be one or two of the modern languages, and these are introduced
wherever it is necessary. I have not taken the course precisely as it exists in
any one school, but have combined, from an investigation of many institutions,
the features which I suppose would most fairly represent the whole system. In
the Rhenisli provinces of Prussia, in a considerable part of Bavaria, Baden, and
Wirtemberg, Frencli is taught as well as German ; and in the schools of Prussian
Poland, German and Polish are taught. Two languages can be taught in a school
quite as easily as one, provided the teacher be perfectly familiar with both, as
any one may see by visiting Mr. Solomon's school in Cincinnati, where all the
uistruction is given both in German and English,

What fjiculty of mind is there that is not developed in the scheme of instruc-
tion sketched above ? I know of none. The perceptive and reflective faculties,
the memory and tlie judgment, the imagination and tlie taste, the moral and re-
ligious faculty, and even the various kinds of physical and manual dexterity, all
have opportunity for development and exercise. Indeed, I think the system, in
its great outlines, as nearly complete as human ingenuity and skill can make it ;
though undoubtedly some of its arrangements and details admit of improvement ;
and some clianges will of course be necessary in adapting it to the circumstances
of different coiuitries.

The entirely practical character of the system is obvious throughout. It
views every subject on tlie practical side, and in reference to its adaptedness to
use. The dry, technical, cabstract parts of science are not tliose first presented ;
but the system proceeds, in the only way wliich nature ever pointed out, from
practice to theory, from facts to demonstrations. It lias often been a complaint
in respect to some systems of education, thi\t the more a man studied, the less he
knew of the actual business of life. Such a complaint cannot be made in refer-
ence to this system, for, being intended to educate for the actual business of life,
this object is never for a moment lost siglit of.

Another striking feature of tlie system is its moral and religious character.
Its morahty is pure and elevated, its religion entirely removed from the narrow-
ness of sectarian bigotrv. What parent is there, loving his children, and wishing
to have them respected and happy, who would not desire that they should be

RESULTS OF NORMAL SCHOOL SYSTEM. 347

educated under such a kind of moral and religious influence as has been described ♦
Whether a believer in revelation or not, does he not know that without sound
morals there can be no happiness, and that tliere is no morality like the morality
of the New Testament ? Does he not know that witliout religion tlie human
heart can never be at rest, and that there is no religion like the religion of the
Bible ? Every well-informed man knows that, as a general fact, it is impossible
to impress the obligations of morality with any efficiency on the heart of a child,
or even on that of an adult, without an appeal to some code which is sustained
by the authority of God ; and for what code will it be possible to claim tliis
authority, if not for the code of the Bible ?

But perhaps some will be ready to say, ' The scheme is indeed an excellent
one, provided only it were practicable ; but the idea of introducing so extensive
and complete a course of study into our common schools is entirely visionary, and
can never be realized.' I answer, that it is no theory which I have been exhib-
iting, but a matter of fact, a copy of actual practice. The above system is no
visionary scheme, emanating from the closet of a recluse, but a sketch of the
course of instruction now actually pursued by thousands of schoolmasters, in the
best district schools that have ever been organized. It can be done ; for it has
been done — it is now done : and it ought to be done. If it can be done in
Europe, I believe it can be done in the United States : if it can be done in Prus-
sia, I know it can be done in Ohio. The people have but to say the word and
provide the means, and the thing is accomplished ; for the word of the people
here is even more powerful than the word of the king there ; and the means of
the people here are altogether more abundant for such an object than the means
of the sovereign there. Shall this object, then, so desirable in itself, so entirely
practicable, so easily within our reach, fail of accomplishment ? For the honor
and welfare of our state, for the safety of our whole nation, I trust it will not
fail ; but that we shall soon witness, in this commonwealth, the introduction of a
system of common-school instruction, fully adequate to all the wants of our pop-
ulation.

But the question occurs, How can this be done ? I will give a few brief hints
as to some things wliich I suppose to be essential to the attainment of so desira-
ble an end.

] . Teachers must be skillful, and trained to their business. It will at once be
perceived, that the plan above sketched out proceeds on the supposition that the
teacher has fully and distinctly in his mind the whole course of instruction, not
only as it respects the matters to be taught, but also as to all the best modes of
teaching, that he may be able readily and decidedly to vary his method accord-
ing to the peculiarities of each individual mind which may come under his care.
This is the only true secret of successful teaching. The old mechanical method,
in which the teacher relies entirely on his text-book, and drags every mind along
through the same dull routine of creeping recitation, is utterly insufficient to
meet the Avants of our people. It may do in Asiatic Turkey, where the whole
object of the school is to learn to pronounce the words of the Koran in one dull,
monotonous series of sounds ; or it may do in China, where men must never speak
or think out of the old beaten track of Chinese imbecility ; but it will never do
in the United States, where the object of education ought to be to make imme-
diately available, for the highest and best purposes, every particle of real talent
that exists in the nation. To effect such a purpose, the teacher must possess a
strong and independent mind, well disciplined, and well stored with every thing
pertaining to his profession, and ready to adapt his instructions to every degree
of intellectual capacity, and every kind of acquired habit. But how can we
expect to find such teachers, unless they are trained to their business ? A very
few of extraordinary powers may occur, as we sometimes find able mechanics,
and great mathematicians, who had no early training in their favorite pursuits ;
but the^e few exceptions to a general rule will never multiply fast enough to
supply our sdiools with able teachers. The management of the human mind,
particularly youthful mind, is the most delicate task ever committed to the hand
of man ; and* shall it be left to mere instinct, or shall our schoolmasters have at
least as Ciireful a training as our lawyers and physicians ?
^ 2. Teachers, then, must have the m(!ans of acquiring the necessary qualifica-
tions ; in other words, there nmst be institutions in which the business of teaching

48 RESULTS OF NORMAL SCHOOL SYSTEiM.

is made a systematic object of attention. I am not an advocate for multiplying
our institutions. We already have more in number than we support, and it
would be wise to give power and efficiency to those we now possess before we
project new ones. But the science and art of teaching ougiit to be a regular
branch of study in some of our academies and high schools, that those who are
looking forward to this profession may have an opportunity of studying its prin-
ciples. In addition to this, in our populous towns, where there is opportunity
for it, there should be large model schools, under the care of the most able and
experienced teachers that can be obtained ; and the candidates for the profession
•who have already completed the theoretic course of the academy, should be em-
ployed in this school as monitors, or assistants — thus testing all their theories by
pnictice, and acquiring skill and dexterity under the guidance of their head
master. Thus, while learning, they would be teaching, and no time or effort
would be lost. To give efficiency to the whole system, to present a general
standard and a prominent point of union, there should be at least one model
teachers' seminary, at some central point — as at Columbus — which shall be amply
provided with all the means of study and instruction, and have connected with it
schools of every grade, for the practice of the students, imder the immediate
superintendence of their teachers.

8. The teachers must be competently supported, and devoted to their busi-
ness. Few men attain any great degree of excellence in a profession unless they
love it, and place all their hopes in life upon it. A man cannot, consistently
with his duty to himself, engage in a business which does not afford him a com-
petent support, unless he has other means of living, which is not the case with
many who engage in teaching. In this country especially, where there are such
vast fields of profitable employment open to every enterprising man, it is not
possible that the best of teachers can be obtained, to any considerable extent, for
our district schools, at the present rate of wages. We have already seen what
encouragement is held out to teachers in Russia, Prussia, and other European
nations, and what pledges are given of competent support to their families, not
only wliile engaged in the work, but when, having been worn out in the public
service, they are no longer able to labor. In those countries, where every pro-
fession and walk of life is crowded, and where one of the most common and
oppressive evils is want of employment, men of high talents and qualifications
are often glad to become teachers even of district schools ; men who in this coun-
try would aspire to the highest places in our colleges, or even our halls of legis
lation and courts of justice. How much more necessary, then, here, that the
profession of teacliing should afford a competent support 1

Indeed, such is the state of things in this country, that we cannot expect to
find male teachers for all our schools. The business of educating, especially
young children, must fall, to a great extent, on female teachers. There is not
the same variety of tempting employment for females as for men ; they can be
supported cheaper, and the Creator has given them peculiar qualifications for
the education of the young. Females, then, ought to be employed extensively
in all our elementary schools, and they should be encouraged and aided in ob-
taining the qualifications necessary for this work. There is no country in the
world where woman holds so high a rank, or exerts so great an influence, as
here ; wherefore, lier responsibilities are the greater, and she is under obliga-
tions to render herself the more actively useful.

4. Tlie children must be made comfortable in their school ; they must bo
punctual, and attend the whole course. 1'here can be no profitable study with-
out personal comfort ; and the inconvenience and miserable arrangements of
some of our school-houses are enough to anniliilate all that can be done by the
best of teachers. No instructor can teach unless tlie pupils are present to be
taught, and no plan of systematic instruction can be carried steadily through
unless the pupils attend punctually and through the whole course.

5. The civil; Iren must be given up implicitly to the discipline of the schooL
Nothing can be done unless the teacher has the entire control of his pupils in
school-hours, and out of school too, so far as the rules of the school are concerned.
If the parent in any way interferes with, or overrules, the arrangements of the
teacher, he may attribute it to himself if the school is not successful. No teacher
ever ought to be employed to whom the entire management of the children can-

RESULTS OF NORMAL SCHOOL SYSTEM. 349

not be s.ifelv intrusted ; and better at any time dismiss the teacher than coun-
teract his discipline. Let parents but take the pains and spend tlie money
necessjiry to provide a comfortable school-house and a competent teacher for
their children, and they never need appreliend that the discipUne of the school
■will be unreasonably severe. No inconsiderable part of the corporal punishment
that has been inflicted in schools, has been made necessary by the discomfort of
school-houses and the unskillfulness of teachers. A lively, sensitive boy is stuck
upon a bench full of knot-holes and sharp ridges, without a support for his feet
or his back, with a scorcliing fire on one side of him and a freezing wind on the
other ; and a stitf Orbilius of a master, with wooden brains and iron hands, orders
lum to sit perfectly still, with nothing to employ his mmd or his body, till it is
his turn to read. Thus confined for hours, what can the poor little fellow do but
begin to wriggle like a fish out of water, or an eel in a frying-pan ? For thia
irrepressible effort at relief he receives a box on the ear ; this provokes and ren-
ders him still more uneasy, and next comes the merciless ferule ; and the poor
child is finally burnt and frozen, cuffed and beaten, into hardened roguery or
incurable stupidity, just because the avarice of his parents denied him a comfort-
able school-house and a competent teacher.

6. A beginning must be made at certain points, and the advance toward
completeness must be gradual. Every thing cannot be done at once, and such a
system as is needed cannot be generally introduced till its benefits are first de-
monstrated by actual experiment. Certain great points, then, where the people
are ready to co-operate, and to make the most liberal advances, in proportion to
their means, to maintain the schools, should be selected, and no pains or expense
spared, till the full benefits of the best system are realized ; and as the good
effects are seen, other places will very readily follow the example. All experi-
ence has shown that governmental patronage is most profitably employed, not to
do the entire work, but simply as an incitement to the people to help themselves.

To follow up this great object, the Legislature has wisely made choice of a
Superintendent, whose untiring labors and disinterested zeal are worthy of all
praise. But no great plan can be carried through in a single year ; and if the
Sujierintendent is to have opportunity to do what is necessary, and to preserve
that independence and energy of official character which are requisite to the
successful discharge of his duties, he should hold his office for the same term, and
on the same conditions, as the Judges of the Supreme Court.

Every officer engaged m this, or in any other public work, should receive a
suitable compensation for his services. This, justice requires ; and it is the only
way to secure fidelity and efficiency.

There is one class of our population for whom some special provision seems
necessary. The children of foreign emigrants are now very numerous among us,
and it is essential that they receive a good English education. But they are
not prepared to avail themselves of the advantages of our common English
schools, their imperfect acquaintance with the language being an insuperable bar
to their entering on the course of study. It is necessary, therefore, that there be
some preparatory schools, in which instruction shall be communicated both in
English and their native tongue. The English is, and must be, the language of
this country, and the highest interests of our state demand it of the Legislature
to require that the English language be thoroughly taught in every school wliich
they patronize. Still, the exigencies of the case make it necessary that there
should be some schools expressly fitted to the condition of our foreign emigrants,
to introduce them to a knowledge of our language and institutions. A school of
this kind has been established m Cincinnati, by benevolent individuals. It has
been in operation about a year, and already nearly three hundred children have
received its advantages. Mr. Solomon, the head teacher, was educated for his
profession in one of the best institutions of Prussia, and in this school he has
demonstratetl the excellences of the system. The instructions are all given both
in German and English, and this use of two languages does not at all interrupt
the progress of the children in their respective studies. I cannot but recommend
this pliilanthropic institution to the notice and patronage of the Legislature.*

In neighborhoods where there is a mixed population, it is desirable, if possible,

♦ German schools now form a part of the system of public schools in Cincinnati.

350 CALVIN ELLIS STOVVE.

to employ teachers who understand both languages, and that the exercises of the
school be conducted in both, with the rule, however, that a!i the revievvs and
examinations be in English ovly.^''

Professor Stowe took an active part in tlie proceedings of the
Western College of Teachers. In 1835, lie submitted 'a report on
the ^^ Education of Immigrants^^'' by a liberal system of public
schools, in which native and foreign-born children could be educated
together, and thus assimilated into the citizens of a common country.
In 1837, he read his report on the ^''Course of Instruction in the Pub-
lic Primary Schools of Prussia.'^ In 1838, he read a lecture on
"TAe Bible as a Means of Moral and Intellectual Ijnprovem.ent,*^ and,
in the following year, a paper on '"''Teachers' Seminaries^' which was
published in the same year in the "^t5//c«Z i^eposi/ory," and afterward
in a volume with his " Report on Elementary Instruction in Prussia.^''
His paper on Teachers' Seminaries had a good influence in the en-
lightenment of public opinion on that subject. AVhen the Normal
Schools of Massachusetts were first established, and afterward when a
vacancy in the mastership of one these schools occurred, his services
were earnestly sought as principal. In 1844, he delivered a lecture
before the American Institute of Instruction, on the ''''Religious Ele-
ment in Education^'' which was widely circulated and read.

On his return from Europe, Professor Stowe continued his labors at
Lane Seminary, until 1850, when, his health being quite broken down
by labor and by the climate of Cincinnati, he accepted an appointment
as Divinity Professor at Bowdoin College. In 1852, being oftered
the chair of Sacred Literature at Andover Theological Seminary, he
accepted, and still retains the place, in which he is yet hard at work
for the good causes which have so long interested him, of theolog-
ical learning, common schools, temperance, and liberty.

Aside from Professor Stowe's title to a place in this Journal, as an
efficient and persevering laborer for common education, he occupies a
high place as an instructor in his chosen department, and a man of
profound, extensive, and accurate learning, and judicious, original, and
independent views in that department. Ill health has not prevented
his doing a very great amount of work, both in his own private
studies and in lecturing. His faithful thoroughness as a student and
teacher, is illustrated by his custom of studying his course anew as
he takes each successive class over it, precisely as if he had never
been over it before ; a method, we may observe in passing, which well
remunerates both the teacher and taught, by the freshness of the
subject to the former, and the vigor and point of his instructions to
the latter.

SAMUEL LEWIS.

BT WILLIAM T. COQOESHALL,

Editor of the Ohio Journnl of Education.

Samuel Lewis, the first superintendent of common schools in Ohio,
and the most efficient promoter of a system of public instruction in
that state, was born at Falmouth, Massachusetts, March l7th, 1799.
His ancestors, on his mother's side, were of the original pilgrim
stock, at Plymouth. His father was a sea-faring man — the captain
of a coasting vessel ; and Samuel, \vhen not more than eleven years
of age, was often a cabin-boy on voyages which involved perilous ex-
posure. His opportunities of education were limited, even under the
circumstances in which his boyhood was passed; but he early mani-
fested a thirst for knowledge, and he was an upright, reflecting boy.
At the age of ten yeai-s, he was a member of the Methodist church,
and before he was twelve years old gave evidence of those persuasive
powers by which he was afterward distinguished as a public advocate.

His father, having met heavy losses at sea, determined to emigrate
to the West. In the year 1813, the family, consisting of father,
mother, and nine children, journeyed from Falmouth, Massachusetts,
to Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, with one wagon, drawn by two horses ;
the father and his five sons walking the entire distance. At Pitts-
burg a small flat-boat was purchasetl, from which, after a tedious
voyage down the Ohio river, Mr. Lewis landed his family at Cincin-
nati. He immediately settled upon a farm near that city, and when
Samuel was fifteen years of age, hired him out to work on a farm, at
seven dollars a month. The boy's employer was a mail contractor,
and very soon Samuel was the mail carrier between Cincinnati and
Chilicothe. He traveled on horseback. The trip occupied seven days,
and sometimes two nights, amid perils arising in the new country
from high water, imperfect roads, and forest rangers of various
classes. A better opportunity otleiing to him, young Lewis went,
with a party of surveyors, into Indiana. He spent several months in
the forest, and then, having determined to learn a trade, hired him-
self to a carpenter, and applied his energies diligently to the study
and practice of the art of house-building. He was industrious, tem-

352 SAMUEL LEWIS.

perate, and skillful, and became a respected workman. From the
time he was a farm- boy, until he worked as a journeyman carpenter,
he continued, as regularly as his laborious duties would permit, to
read whatever books of good character he could obtain, devoting the
time which too many of his fellow workmen spent in idleness and dis-
sipation, to study, which fitted him the better for his mechanical labors,
and which won the respect of all who formed his acquaintance.
Thirst for knowledge, and desire for the influence which its acquaint-
ance and good use imparts, led Mr. Lewis to seek a wider sphere of
activity ; and, in the year 1819, he resolved to study law. He was
then twenty years of age. He had paid his father fifty dollars a year
for five years, for his time ; and had one year yet to work in before
attaining his majority. His good character, and available intelligence,
secured him a place in the clerk's office of the court of common pleas
of Hamilton county. His salary was thirty dollars a year and his
board. Judge Jacob Burnet consented to become his legal instruct-
or, and he made an arrangement with his employer, the county
clerk, by which he was to be allowed to board himself, and to receive,
for so doing, one hundred and twenty dollars a year. His income was,
then, one hundred and fifty dollars, out of which he was to pay his
father fifty ; and, with the remainder, board and clothe himself, and
buy the books he wanted, which he could not borrow. His diet
was, literally, bread and water ; his clothing, the cheapest he could
purchase. He was obliged to work all day at his desk in the clerk's
office, and had only the night time for his law studies ; yet, on the
second of April, 1822, he was admitted to the bar, after an examina
tion which gave him favor with several influential lawyers. His in-
dustry, frugality, temperance, and probity, were known to men who
had business before the Hamilton county courts, and Mr. Lewis im-
mediately secured a remunerative practice. He soon became distin-
guished as an advocate, and he maintained a respectable position as
a counselor.

Out of the first proceeds of his efibrts at the bar, Mr. Lewis bought
a farm for his father, and contributed money for the education of his
younger brothers and sisters. As his business increased, and his in-
come augmented, he improved his father's farm. In 1823, he mar-
ried Charlotte E. Goforth, a daughter of an eminent physician, a pio-
neer in the Miami valley. In 1824, Mr. Lewis was licensed as a local
preacher. He was then well known as an earnest advocate of tem-
perance reform, and was relied upon by the advocates of popular edu-
cation as a powerful coadjutor. His tirst infuential action for general
education, wa^^ exerted with a friend, w' o, being disposed to be-

SAMUEL LEWIS.

353

qiieatli a fund for the maintenance of a free grammar school, was in-
duced by Mr. Lewis, not to postpone the establishment of the school ;
but, while yet in active life, to set apart property for that purpose.
That friend was William Woodward. The school was opened in
1830, three years before Mr, Woodward died. Mr. Lewis was ap-
pointed a life trustee, with power to nominate his successor. The
property is now worth at least $250,000 ; and, with another fund,
known as the Hughes Fund, amounting to not less than $00,000, of
which Mr. Lewis was also a trustee, supports two high schools in Cin-
cinnati, which, chiefly through the foresight of Samuel Lewis, are the
crowning features of the common school system of that city.

Mr. Lewis was one of the earliest and most active supporters of the
AYestern College of Teachers, which was formed in 1831. In addresses
before that body, and in an address at the first state convention, 1836, he
had not only displayed power to plead eloquently for popular education,
but he presented views which exhibited judicious reflection upon
the instrumentalities by which common schools were to be rendered
popular and efficient; and, in the winter of 1837, he was elected, by the
legislature, superintendent of common schools.

Mr. Lewis knew that heavy pecuniary and personal sacrifices would
be required of him, if he accepted the office, but he did not hesitate. Pe-
cuniary interest never deterred him from the straightforward discharge
of a plain duty, nor did the allurements of immediate prosperity ever
deter him from the frank expression of what he conceived to be im-
portant truths ; but he expressed honest fears that, owing to the want
of early education, which had often embarrassed him, he would not
be competent for the responsibilities to which he was invited. Friends,
who knew him well, assured him that these misgivings arose from a too
severe estimate of the duties he would be required to discharge.
Taking their counsel, he accepted the office. He brought to the po-
sition not only zeal and practical knowledge, but a capacity for work
imperatively needed ; capacity to travel and to speak, for which the
toils of his early, and the experience of his later, life had peculiarly
qualified him. He began his work in the spring of 1837. The sal-
ary which had been voted the superintendent was five hundred dollars
a year.

Mr. Lewis found that, excepting Cincinnati, there were no schools
in the state practically open alike to rich and poor. There were
7,748 districts, and 3,370, nearly one-half, were without school-houses.
Many of the houses, in which a school was taught for two or three
months in winter, ^were not worth ten dollars each ; while not one
third in the state would be apprnised at fifty dollars each. He trav-

354 SAMUEL LEV\7S.

eled more tlifin twelve hundred miles, chiefly on horseback ; visited
forty county towns, and three hundred schools ; urging upon school
officers augmented interest, upon parents more liberal and more ac-
tive co-operation, and upon teachers a higher standard of morals
and of qualifications, with an eloquence remarkable for persuasive
power. He reported to the legislature of 1837 and 1838, that there
had been four thousand three hundred and thirty-six schools taught,
on an average, about three months in the year ; that four-fifths of the
people were in favor of free schools, but demanded that they should
be efRcient. By invitation, he read his report to the general assem-
bly, and he told its members that wdiere the schools were free (in
Cincinnati,) they flourished best ; but the towns generally had poorer
public schools than the country, because the common schools wer^
not so much depended upon. To overcome the difficulties which pre-
vented the general enjoyment of free education, Mr. Lewis recom-
mended a state fund, to be equally distributed ; better economy in the
administration of school laws ; the privilege of loans for building
school-houses ; the establishment of school libraries ; the publication
of a school journal ; and proper care of the lands given in trust to
the legislature for the support of free schools.

Certain features of Mr. Lewis' report, ought to be held in grateful
remembrance. He desired that school-teachers should be required to
report to township clerks. In 1835, the state auditor .had been re-
quested to inform the legislature of the number of schools in the
state, and the number of white youth attending them. He was au-
thorized to call upon county auditors for the information. Only
thirty-three out of seventy-one counties responded. No county in
the state reported fully. In 183*7, Mr. Lewis advocated also the pro-
priety of arranging districts and schools in corporate towns and cities,
under one board of education, with power to hold evening schools ;
and he thought it would save special legislation, to pass a general law,
giving townships a right to organize high schools or seminaries, w^hen-
ever they demanded a higher grade of instruction than could be se-
cured in district schools. Again, he saw no reason why orphan asy-
lums should not be allowed something toward the education of the
youth under their charge ; and he was in favor of a superintendent
of common schools in every county.

The report, embodying these far-seeing suggestions, was made to a
general assembly distinguished for ability. Its leading men have
since filled important state and national offices. In the senate, were
Benjamin F. Wade, David Starkweather, and Leicester King ; in the
Jiouse, John A Foot, Seabury Ford, James J. Farran, Otway Curry,

SAMUEL LEWIS. 355

Alfred Kelley, William Medill, W. B. Tlirall, W. Trcvitt, and Nelson
Bar re re.

The suj)erintendent's suggestions were respectfully considered ; and
the committee on schools, stimulated by his assiduous attentions, and
guided by his experience,' prepared a bill, which Mr. Van Hook, from
Butler county, presented to the house, on the 5th of February, 1838.
Without essential change, though opposed with determination, it
passed that body, by a majority of twenty-six. In the senate, fre-
quent attempts were made to change its pi-actical character, or post-
pone final action upon it; but, on the 3rd of March, the final vote
gave it seven majority; and, by the concurrence of the house in
slight amendments which the senate had imposed, it became a law the
same day.

It created a school fund of $200,000, to be distributed equally
throughout the state ; imposed a county tax of two mills; provided local
school officers ; made county auditors and township clerks ; county
and township superintendents; authorized district taxes for school-
houses ; required reports from teachers, and from township and county
superintendents ; gave incorporated towns and cities a board of edu-
cation, with power to establish schools of a higher grade than was
common ; required county examiners ; made the office of state super-
intendent permanent — the officer to be elected every five years, and
have a salary of twelve hundred dollars, and to be the editor of a
monthly journal, published at the expense of the state, and circulated
among school officers and teachers.

Mr. Lewis promptly prepared to exercise his faculties to their full-
est capacity in securing attention to, and execution of, the new law.
His report had been favorably received by the people, and the pros-
pect was fair for the practical working of the school system as re-
vised. The first number of the "Common School Director'' was is-
sued by the superintendent, in May, 1838. He announced that it was
bis intention to visit every county of the state. His appointments
were immediately arranged and published, and he urged school-teach-
ers, school officers, and friends of education to meet him ; declaring
that nothing but sickness or death would prevent him from fulfilling
his engagements. Thus, in addition to his regular labors as editor
and general school director, he assumed an enormous task — one
which required him to ride, clay after day, on horseback, thirty-five
and, sometimes, forty miles. Whether Mr. Lewis met any stirring or
romantic adventures in his wild rides, I can not say ; but I know that
he was almost every where encouraged with evidences of a pfrowing
interest in schools; and, by his private advice, public api •aU, and

Soo SAMUEL LEWIS

familiar arguments, lie gave a vigor to educational sentiment which
found expression in county educational conventions; increased the
number of teachers' associations ; and secured a representation at a
state educational convention, in Columbus, in December, 1838, which
most positively declared that the cause of popular education was
gaining decided triumphs. In April, 1838, an educational paper had
been started in Akron, Ohio, by E. L. Sawteil and H. K. Smith, called
the '■''Pcsialozziany It seconded Mr. Lewis' appeals in the ^'■Common
School Director,^^ in behalf of the state convention, and was of im-
portant service. I have seen a call for a state convention in 1837,
but can find no report of a meeting. The meeting in 1838 was at-
tended by nearly one hundred delegates. Wilson Shannon, then
governor, was elected president, and Milo G. Williams, first vice-
president.

In the '"''School Director " for November, Mr. Lewis had made an
especial appeal to school-teachers. He said reading was attempted
to be taught in all the schools, but arithmetic was not, in many, and
that, with geography, it ought to be in all ; while history, and the
elements of chemistry and philosophy, ought not to be neglected.
Grammar had not yet become a branch of common school instruction ;
therefore, the subject of normal schools was a fit one for the conven-
tion ; and Calvin E. Stowe delivered an able address upon the neces-
sity of schools for teachers. Addresses were also delivered by Rev.
Dr. Pearce, then president of Western Reserve College, and W. H.
McGuffey. Resolutions were passed, sustaining Mr. Lewis as super-
intendent ; recommending music as a branch of instruction in com-
mon schools; asking for a teachers' seminary at Columbus; and
urging upon teachers the importance of liberal efforts to elevate the
profession.

Mr. Lewis, in 1838, visited sixty-five counties — all but ten in
the state — in which he delivered addresses, and studied the condi-
tion of schools, and the wishes of the people. From the information
thus gained, he had no doubt that a large majority of the people
were in favor, and comparatively few opposed to the new law. But
time enough had not elapsed to enable the warmest friends to wit-
ness the full operation of the system. It was, to two-thirds of those
who were active, a new work, and in many places an arduous one.
The burdens of the law had yet only been fully known, and the peo-
j)le were just about to realize the results of the liberal legislation of
the last winter; yet it was evident every where that the year 1838
had witnessed a more rapid and extensive development of public en-
torprijic and effective action for common schools, than had been

SAMUEL LEWIS. 35 Y

known at any previous period. Mr. Lewis tliougUt tliere was too
jnuch effort to tax the memory, and not enough to develop the pow-
ers of the mind, and great neglect of education for girls. He asked
for some change in the law, which would allow German schools in
districts where a majority of the people spoke that language ; he re-
peated his suggestion of authority for loans in districts to build school-
houses ; he plead for ventilation, and humane seats and desks ; asked
for increased power over schools for corporate authorities ; again sug-
gested the need of evening schools, and of county superintendents,
independent of auditors' offices ; prayed for school libraries ; and
pressed his idea of central township schools or academies.

This was a favorite measure with Mr. Lewis. lie had delivered a
lecture upon it before the college of teachers.* He desired a law, giv-
ing all the school directors in a township power to establish a central
school, with a board of education, having authority to assess such a
tax upon the township as would support it.

Before Mr. Lewis' report had been read, a resolution had been
ofiered in the house, and one was soon after presented to the senate,
asking that the office of superintendent of common schools be abol-
ished. They were laid on the table. There was dispute upon the
printing of the report ; and attempts were made, till late in the ses-
sion of the legislature, to abolish the state fund ; to release township
superintendents ; to make the state auditor state superintendent ; and
to reduce the tax. All these attempts failed, however, except
the last. Mr. Lewis had a strong hold upon the people, and the
legislature appreciated it. The law was so amended as to allow
county commissioners to reduce the tax to one mill, but in other
respects it was improved ; although the publication of the ^^ School
Director'^ was not ordered, and county commissioners were au-
thorized to excuse township clerks from serving as school superin-
tendents for a second year. All of Mr. Lewis' important suggestions
w^ere embodied, excepting those on libraries and township high schools.
His exposition of abuses in the lease and sale of school lands had
cost much labor, but were of a value which can not now be fully esti-
mated. They were added to labors arduous enough, but to them was
also added other extra duties, requiring much thought and investi-
gation.

The legislature of 1837-8, had instructed Mr. Lewis to report upon

♦This lecture was delivered at Cincinnati, in October, 1S37. Mr. Lewis had been appointed
to report on the expediency of adapting common school education to the entire wants of the
community. He spoke on the expediency of making the course of instruction in public
echools so ample and various as to meet tlie wants of all classes of citizens. He propoted
central township schools, equal to the preparation of a student for college, as practically ad-
vantageous and economical.

358 SAMUEL LEWIS.

the expediency of establishii)g a state university for teachers, and
upon the best plans for the conduct of such an institution. IJe re-
sponded to this request in au elaborate report, which was subuiitted
in February, 1839. It is a document creditable to the State, and
ought to be more widely known tlian it is. Many passages deserve
repeated quotation. It sketches graphically the graded school of the
present Ohio system ; describes common schools as they were in Ohio
in 1834-5-6 ; dwells upon what they ought to be, depicting very
clearly what they are, in many respects, now ; suggests teachers' in-
stitutes ; and shows, most conclusively, that a teachers' seminary ought
to have been established at the Capital.

Mr, Lewis' health had been impaired by the severity of his labors,
and the exposures to which he had been suVgect. He did not, how-
ever, abate his zeal, but contributed articles to the newspapers, issued
circulars to county commissioners, to auditors, to teachers, and parents
(which are models of their kind ;) made his third annual report ; and
resigned his office.

Curing 1839, a '•'Common School Advocate'''' was published month-
ly, for gratuitous circulation, in Cincinnati, and it liberally quoted from
Mr. Lewis' communications. The press of the state generally was
liberal toward him, and toward the cause of common schools, and
should not be forgotten when we consider the influences which have
promoted their adoption and elevation. There were more county
educational conventions, and better ones, in 1839, than there had ever
been ; and the state convention in December of that year was more
largely attended, and was more influential, than any previous one.
Samuel Lewis delivered an address on " common schools, and their
eftects upon pecuniary interests ; " W. H. McGuffey, one upon " pri-
vate schools, and their influence on common ; " Milo G. Williams
spoke upon "the claims of national science in public schools;" and
AVarren Jenkins, who had just issued a manual of the Ohio school
system, lectured upon " Ohio school laws." The convention adopted
firmly progressive resolutions. Governor Shannon apjdauded the
school system in his annual message, and deprecated essential
change ; but the legislature had not been in session many days, be-
fore it was evident that the school system was in danger of being
impaired. The superintendent's report was presented to the honse^
on the 13th of December, 1839. It was not as elaborate as his first
or second ; but it reviewed the scliool law, and declared it to be the
best of any with which Mr. Lewis was acquainted. In one of his cir-
culars he had said that he found opposition oftenest among those
who had not read the law, or those who had read and studied, that

SAMUEL LEWIS. 359

they might misrepresent it; and, in view of these facts, he urged,
again, the need of county superintendents ; devoted considerable
space to the education of the poor ; and defended the common schools
from the imputation that they were institutions of charity. lie asked
for the publication of the hivvs and forms ; presented clearly the ne-
cessity for a state superintendent ; and reported the general state oi
education to be .encouraging. Reading, writing, arithmetic, and gram-
mar, were taught in most of the schools ; they had been kept open,
on an average, four months ; and the average wages of teachers were
$16 per month for males, $10 for females.

Mr. Lewis had, in his first report, represented the advantage of em-
ploying young women as teachers in elementary schools ; and, under
his*administration, the proportion of schools intrusted to them was
largely increased.

When the legislators had received his report, they disputed about
the number of copies which ought to be printed ; and, in the house, a
facetious debate sprang up, which, in one respect at least, illustrated
the temper of a portion of the members. A certain gentleman was
opposed to the printing, unless his constituents could have copies in
German, because they could not read English ; another member de-
manded copies in Welsh, because his constituents could not read
either English or German ; and another member said that a portion
of his constituents could not read at all, therefore he was opposed to
the printing, unless a committee was appointed to go around and read
the report to them. The house voted to print five thousand copies, in
JEngUsh^ and the senate concurred.

Skillful attempts were made, from time to time, to impair the effi-
ciency of the school law ; but most of them were sternly resisted.
Three different bills were introduced to the house. There were de-
bates on reducing the superintendent's salary ; on abolishing the office;
or giving it to the state auditor or the state secretary. The house
and the senate could not agree. They had duplicate committees of
conference. The house adhered and the senate insisted. On the last
day of the session the friends of the school cause succeeded in bring-
ing the two houses to an agreement, in which the school law was left
intact, but the office of superintendent, with $400 to employ a clerk,
was added to that of the secretary of state.

Mr. Lewis had been paid $500 for one, and $2,400 for two years ;
but he roceived nothing for his time or labor, his salary serving only
to pay his expenses when required to be away from home. Ilis
friends claimed that he had saved the state, or the school children in
the state, $60,000 by his school-land investigations and exposures ;

3G0

SAMUEL LEWIS.

and not even the bitterest enemies of the school system denied him
commendation for zeal, industry, and popular ability ; while, with one
voice, educational men have since declared that, b^ liis labors, the
whole educational tone of the state was elevated and set forward.

The following extracts from an account of Mr. Lewis' services, in
a biography by his son. Rev. AVilliam G. W. Lewis, does not too
highly estimate the good work which he accomplished.

It is certain that what he did to awaken public attention to abuses which had
been committed in the leasing and selling of sfh(X)l lands, aroused the only opposi-
tion which arrayed itself against him ; and the only dissatisfaction expressed with
his general labors, sprang from among school officers and school-teachers, who
were unwilling or unable to reach the standard of industry, zeal, and intelligence
which the superintendent desired.

The following abstract of the statistics in Mr. Lewis' reports presents a flaj;ter-
ing picture of school progress, during the three years of his official laboi's : —

Years.

No. Schools.

No. Teachers.

c

<

1

li

1837

4,336
4,0.30
7,295

150,40-2
108..596
2.54,612

7.962
7,515

7,228

22,168
28,671
29,199

$317,730

488,085
701,091

671
731

$ 61.890

65,732

206,445

ia38

18:19

Governors, secretaries of state, and educational men of wide knowledge, have,
almost without exception, from 1840 till the present time, borne willing testimo-
ny to the fact that, by Mr. Lewis' industry, wisdom, and eloquence, the whole
educational tone of the state was elevated, and the most fruitful seeds were sown
for that which bears now to every child in Ohio the privilege of a good education.
No one, who studies the events of his superintendentship, and the results which
have followed it, with an unbiased mind, will dispute even higher claims for Mr.
Lewis, as a friend of popular education, than we now set up.

It is not to be denied that, in the present excellent school system
of Ohio, the forethought and practical suggestions of Samuel Lewis,
put on record in 1837, 1838, and 1839, are embodied to a greater
extent than those of any other man. The school law, adopted in
1853, was rather a codification of old laws than a new act, except in
so far as it recognized practically the great doctrine that the property
of the state should educate the children of the state, and authorized
a state commissioner, school libraries, and graded departments. All
of these important measures Mr. Lewis repeatedly urged, in his re-
port's, and in public addresses.

Mr. Lewis had not been prominently identified with any political
party, but had voted with the whigs ; and, in 1840, was urged to be-
come a candidate for the oflnce of secretary of state. The transfer of
the superintendence of common schools to that department of the
government, was a good reason for the nomination of Mr. Lewis as
secretary ; but he declined. Though he supported General Har-

SAMUEL LEWIS.

361

rison for the presidency, lie was, in 1841, an active and influential mem-
ber of the liberty party, then organized in Ohio. In 1842, he was
that party's candidate for the state senate in Hamilton county ; in
1843, was its candidate for congress, from Hamilton ; and, in 1846,
was the liberty party candidate for the governorship of Ohio. In
184Y, he was the president of the national liberty convention at Buf-
falo; in 1848, was again a candidate for congress; and, in 1851, was
a second, and, in 1853, a third time the liberty party candidate for
governor. His first vote for governor was 10,797, his last 50,346 ;
but the average vote for other candidates on the ticket was 34,345.
In all the campaigns, he was a zealous worker. He "stumped" the
state four times, making speeches distinguished for a persuasive elo-
quence, which renders his memory dear now to many good men and
women in Ohio. He is remembered, however, not only as a remark-
able advocate for freedom, but as a most popular and efficient worker
for the advancement of temperance reform, and for the promotion of
other movements designed to ameliorate the condition of the unfor-
tunate ; to elevate the degraded, and to reclaim the misdirected, and
reform the vicious.

Severe labors, in the campaign of 1853, very perceptibly impaired
his health ; and, in the spring of 1854, he said he "was sentenced
with death." He had been a professing christian for more than forty
years ; he was free from all pecuniary embarrassments ; no man was
his enemy; he was the friend of all mankind; and he was prepared
to die. His death occurred on the 28th of July, 1854. He was
mourned, not only as a husband and father, but as a christian friend,
as a useful minister of the gospel, as an eloquent orator, as an exem-
plary citizen, and as a self-sacrificing philanthropist. His wife and a
son and daughter survive him.

A correct opinion upon the affectionate regard in which Mr. Lewis
was held by those who were associated with him, may be found from
the resolutions adopted by the Union School Board of Cincinnati, of
which he was president.

December 4th, 1854. — Rufus King, of the committee appointed to prepare
resolutions expressing the sentiments of the Board on the virtues and vahiable
services of its late president, Samuel Lewis, offered the following, namely : —

" The decease of Samuel Lewis, late member of this Board, and president
from its foundation, having been announced, and this Board having, in common
with his friends and fellow-citizens, a deep sense of the gratitude and veneration
which are due to his memory ; and desiring to leave an enduring tribute to the
good name and works of one whose strength and purity of character and mind,
whose love for, and firm resolve to elevate, his fellow-men were such as are but
rarely given to man, and are a noble incentive and guide to those who shall suc-
ceed him ; now inscribe this memorial of him upon their journals. To him the
state is much indebted for anew era in her common schools, and for invaluable serv-
ices in that department to her highest councils. And amid the toiU and dis-

362 SAMUEL LEWIS.

tractions of a very active life, he was chiefly instrumental not only in advising
and inducing the rich endowment created by Mr. Woodward for the cause of
educition, and erecting Woodward College, but he continued with constant zeal
to foster it. as well as that other honorable endowment bequeathed by Mr. Hughes,
fur fi\e schools ; watching over their disposal, preservation, and enhancement;
till, at length, when the opportunity was ripe for bestowing upon these trusts
their noblest ends, he lent the whole of his zeal and talents to efflct that union
of the AV(X)dward and Hughes funds with the public school system, which has
opened, free and common to every child of Cincinnati, the way to a high and liber-
al education. Thus, through all his career, he labored in the foremost rank of
the friends of universal education, and died worthy of the public honor which he
wore. Therefore,

Resolved, That the death of our president has not merely deprived this Board
of one of its foremost and most valued members, but has taken away from the great
cause of free education, an advocate and ornament who was second to none in its
roll of distinguished names ; and that we thus record these sentiments, in the
hope that such an example may not die, but live, to incite others to " go and do
likewise."

As average specimens of Mr. Lewis' style of composition, and as

fair testimony in support of what I have claimed for him, as a man

of just views, and of liberal forecast, I make a few extracts from the

normal university report that has been described.

There is a general spirit of enterprise pervading the community, unshackled by
those artificial restraints that exist, more or less, in other nations, and were, till
very lately, felt even in the older states of this confederacy Mind seems to have
multiplied its power to an enormous extent. Instead of having a few master-spir-
its to direct and control the mass of mind, each one of the great nun)ber that
makes up that mass, is arming itself to become, in its sphere, to a gieater or less
extent, a master-spirit. Our people, and almost the entire world, have felt the
powerful upheavings of this comparatively new energy. It is not merely physi-
cal, or merely intellectual strength. In this country it goes forth armed with the
power of the government itself. To restrain it, would be as impossible, as to turn
back the waters of the mighty stream of the West. It can not be restraineil.
liut it may be guided — morally, religiously, intellectually — and thus made to
fertilize and enrich ; or it may be left to overwhelm and destroy.

We must see the connection that exists between eminent learning and eminent
success in the different pursuits that now engage our attention ; and our course of
studies must adapt itself to those pursuits, to a sufficient extent, at least, to make
that connection palpable. It will not be required to make the course less thor-
ough, but rather increase it, by adding those practical subjects which are so much
neglected, and making all that is called dry in study, aid us in those departments
that our natural, civil, commercial, agricultural, and moral condition and relations
make it indispensable for us to understand. And equally important is it. that
our health should be cared for ; better for our sons and daughters, that they
should never pa.s8 beyond the rudiments of common school learning, than to ob-
tain more than this at the price of sound, vigorous bodies and constitutions. Tho
mental powers of a man are withdrawn from the world, when his body is worn
out; and just in proportion as these powers are increased, and made more useful,
is the body, through which they are exercised, more important. Whatever else is
neglected in a college, the health of the student should be carefully attended to.

If WD are to have a standard of literature of our own ; if we are to have a
reformation and improvement in the higher walks of learning and science ; if tho
great book of nature is to be opened, and the science of this day, and other days,
is to be made tributary to the devtlopment of the unbounded mental, moral, and
physical resources of this heaven-favored land ; if all the hundreds of thousands
of our youth, in our common 8ehtH)ls. are to have furnished, for as many as will
improve it, the advantage for traveling the full length of this most delightful road,
nor less deUghtful than useful ; if all the colleges, now organized, are to have a
point of elevation, erected far beyond their present objects, with sufficient induce-

SAMUEL LEWIS.

363

mcnts to cause them to put forth increased energies ; if, in short, Ohio would
bring forth the cap-stone, and present to the world a system of education, embrac-
ing every department of learuing, fiom A, B, C, to the highest possible literary
attainments; then must she establish a college, or university, or institution of
some other name, adapted to these great purposes.

It is now conceded that at least nine-tenths of our youth must henceforth re-
ceive their education in common schools. This brings to the support of these
schools the great body of the people, who will not be contented vvith a second-
rate teacher. Our state is multiplying her towns and villages, and in each of
these there will be (where there are not now,) several schools so ai'ranged as to
make several departments, the lower of which will take the small children aud
those just commencing. From these lower rooms, when they have reached
certain attainments, to be fixed, they will advance to another, where they will be
carried on to such further point as convenience may designate. Thence, they will
advance to the highest department in the school, and here will be required the
most experienced and best educated teacher. He should thoroughly undei'stand
all the branches of an English education, as taught in our best schools; including
the exact sciences, to a considerable extent. In addition to this, he should be well
acquainted with the philosophy of the mind, and be capable of directing younger
teachers, as he would frequently be at the head of a school having several depart-
ments, with children of all ages, and pursuing a great variety of studies; and,
however well otherwise educated, he should have acquired a habit and love of
study. lie should be improvable, and try, at least, to increase his usefulness, and
improve the condition of his school every month. The best educated men sonie-
times fail as common school teachers, because they look upon the work as beneath
them. This false sentiment nmst be eradicated, and a good teacher of the common
school, risng above such prejudices, must estimate for himself the importance of
his work, and make it his glory to excel in his office.

A teacher, while instructing a child to read (if he understand his business,)
can give hinj a tolerable knowledge of histoi-y, geography, etc. ; in fact, if we
intend to awaken the real intellectual power of our youth, we must teach them to
think. This must begin with their first reading-lesson. To teach a child to pro-
nounce a word without connecting it with an idea, is to teach it to be superficial in
all after life. The child's tlioughts must be directed to the ideas or principles
contained in the lesson, and thus will be cultivated the power of concentrating the
whole mind on any given object or topic, a power that is more needed, and the
want of which is more felt, than any other mental ability. Were our youth to
receive proper early instruction, they would not, in after life, read a page or a
paragraph, without getting the ideas it contiiined, and they would easily distin-
guish on all subjects, because their habits of thought and discrimination would
have been cultivated in the proper manner. But this subject, which ought to oc-
cupy the attention of every lover of his country, can not be dwelt on here to any
greater extent.

As moral influence is the only power that gives efficacy to any of our institu-
tions, youth should early be taught the habit of self-control ; they should be so in-
structed as to make them orderly, from choice, and their choice should be based
on correct motives. And, while they should observe rigidly the laws of the
teacher, he should be both able and willing to show to the youth the reasonable-
ness of law and order. To compel obedience to the law, against the youth's sense
of justice, is but laying the foundation of future discontent with all government.
There are no rules required in schools, of which a competent teacher can not
show a reason satisfactory to nineteen-twentieths of his scholars. As moral gov-
ernment is substituted for adults, instead of physical power, to preserve order in
a free country, so we are called on, whatever expense it may require, to give such
character to our instruction, as will subject our youth to the proper influence, at
the earliest possible day. INIore of cfood or ill depends on this part of education,
than barely to learn reading and writing. If we are right in the kind of instruc-
tion that is given in our poorest schools, it is not necessary to describe further the
kind of teachers required.

It may now be considered as a settled question, that there is something pecul-
iar in the art of governing aud teaching a school, which may be taught and

364 SAMUEL LEWIS.

learned, as any other art or profession. There are, to be sure, many excellent
self-mnde teachers, who have become so by long experience and labor, and there
are many self-made men who are eminent, in all other professions; and, in neither
case, can it be protendod that the success of one man, without superior advant-
ages, would justify us in abolishing those institutions which are intended to aid
students in such professions, or that, because a few succeed in spite of their dis-
advantages, therefore, all men can do so. If one man has learned to govern a
large school with very little corporal punishment, he can teach another, with or-
dinary capacity, the same art. If one nmn has learned how to adapt his instruc-
tion tt) the great variety of minds presented in the school-room, he can teach oth-
ers to do so. If he has learned a mode of approaching each mind in such a man-
ner as to wake it up and secure at once a love of himself and the study ; if he
has found the art of n)aking children reason at an early age ; these, as well as all
other important acquisitions in the business of teaching, can be imparted to others
of ordinary capacity. Heretofore, teachers have all acted without associated ef-
fort— each sought his own, and no other interest; his experience died with him,
and no record was preserved of improvements, as in other professions. To this
cause may be attributed the want of improvement in a profession so important to
all our interests, individually and collectively.

"With the experience of other nations, and other states, as well as the success
which has attended individual experiments in our own state, before me, I have
made up my mind that, with teachers, educated for the business, sufficient to sup-
ply all the districts in our state, we should, with the same money that is now ex-
pended, secure to our children an education far exceeding in amount, and far
superior in quality, to what is generally furnished. The advantages of associated
power are felt in every other department, and may also be felt in this.

^'''^^'i ly J.CBattre ftom..I5««^*^'

oyfi"-

^::^'^C^^tr'L^J3c.<.jt^ .^--^

^

PRESIDENT C7F ANTIOCH COLLEOB YELLOW SFTUNil.S OWO

IIOEACE MANN.*

., ... ..i .., .... . iwe first S«.*o»-'
the State of Massachusetts, an.'

all faiTO.

'or kuowledg^.
The narrow >
advantajres c^ I

school ; an.

»hp ^r

rliy-i

'f the Board of Edu*.....

t of Antioch Collego, at Yei-

!!, Norfolk CounLy,

;.iiiii. supported his

subject of this

' '•m the ex-

;.rv th^l^t

a to

His mother,

redictions. Hi

asare her children s:.<KMj iir^i, ^ v m-: ;
•s able to impart but little of the dotuils of i
-cr work than this, by imparting tiie prim
- ..I " hould be guided,

Mr. arly life was spent in a rural district,

t the appliance of excitements or

'\e that n.

■ sae
hich

366 HORACE MANN

parents subjecteci me to continual privations. I believe in the rug;:^cd nursini? of
Toil, but she nursed me too much. In the winter time, I was employed in in-door
and sedeutiiry occupations, wliich confined me too strictly; and in summer, when
I could work on the farm, the labor was too severe, and ofttn encroached upon
the hours of sleep. I do not remember the time when I began to work. Even
my play-days, — not play-days, for I never had any, — but my play-hours were
earned by extra exertion, finiiihing tasks early to pain a little leisure for boyish
sports. My parents sinned if]fnorantly, but God atHxcs the same physical penal-
ties to the violation of Ilis laws, whether that violation be willful or ignorant. For
willful violation, there is the added penalty of remorse, and that is the only ditur-
enee. Here let me give you two pieces of advice, which shall be gratis to you,
though they cost me what is of more value than diamonds. Train your chiidren
to work, though not too hard ; and, unless they are grossly lymphatic, let them
sleep as much as they will. I have derived one compensation, however, fi'om the
rigor of my early lot. Industry, or diligence, became my second nature, and I
think it would puzzle any psychologist to tell where it joined on to the first.
Owing to these ingrained habts, work has always been to me what water is to a
fish. I have wondered a thousand times to hear people say, '" I don't like this
business ;" or, " I wish I could exchange for that ;" for with me, whenever I have
had any thing to do, I do not remember ever to have demurred, but have always
set about it like a fatalist; and it was as sure to be done as the sun is to set

What was called the love of knowledge w;us, in my time, necessarily cramped
into a love of books ; because there was no such thing as oral instruction. Books
designed for children were few, and their contents meager and miserable. My
teachers were very good people but they were very poor teachers. Looking
back to the school-boy days of my mates and myself, I can not adopt the line of
Virgil,

" O f( rtunatos nimium sua si bona norint."

I deny the bona. With the infinite universe around us, all ready to be daguerreo-
typed upon our souls, we were never placed at the right focus to receive its glori-
ous images. I had an intense natural love of beauty, and of its expression in
nature and in the fine arts. As "a poet was in Murray lost," so at least an
amateur poet, if not an artist, was lost in me. How often, when a boy, did I stop,
like Akenside's hind, to gaze at the glorious sunset; and lie down upon my back,
at night, on the earth, to look at the heavens. Yet with all our senses and our
faculties glowing and receptive, how little were we taught; or rather, how much
obstruction was thrust between us and nature's teachings. Our eyes were never
trained to distinguish forms or colors. Our ears were strangers to music. So far
from being taught the art of drawing, which is a beautiful language by itself, I
well remember that when the impulse to express in pictures what I could not
express in words was so strong that, as Cowper says, it tingled down to my fingers,
then my knuckles were rapped with the heavy ruler of the teacher, or cut with
his rod, so that an artificial tingling soon drove away the natural. Such youthful
buoyancy as even severity could not repress was our only dancing-master. Of
all our faculties, the memory for words was the only one specially appealed to.
The most coniprehensive generalizations of men were given us, instead of the facts
from which those generalizations were formed. All ideas outside of the book
were contraband articles, which the teacher oonfiscated, or rather flung over-
board. Oh, when the intense and burning activity of youthful faculties shall find
employment in salutary and pleasing studies or occupations, then will parents bo
able to judge better of the alhdged proneness of children to mischief. Until then,
children have not a fair trial befoi-e their judges.

Yet, with these obstructions, I had a love of knowledge which nothing could
repress. An inward voice raised its plaint for ever in my heart for something
nobler and better. And if my parents had not the means to give me knowledge,
they intensified the love of it. They always spoke of learning and learned men
witli enthusiasm and a kind of reverence, I was taught to take care of the fev<r
books we had, as though there was something sacred about them. I never dog's-
eared one in my life, nor profanely scribbled upon title pages, margin, or fly-leaf,
and would as soon have stuck a pin through my flesh as through the pages of a
book. When very young, I remember a young lady came to our house on a visit,

HORACE MANN. gg^

who was said to have studied Latin. I looked upon her as a sort of goddess.
Years after, the idea that I could ever study Latin broke upon my mind with the
wondtr and bewilderment of a revelation. Until the age of fifteen 1 had never
been to school more than e'glit or ton weeks in a year.

I said we had but few books. The town, however, owned a small library.
When incorporated, it was named after Dr. Franklin, wliose reputation was then
not only at its zenith, but, like the sun over Gibc-on, was !?tanding still there. As
an acknowledgment of the compliment, he offered them a bell for their church,
but afterward, saying that, from what he had learned of the character of the people,
luj thought they would prefer sense to sound, he changed the gift into a library.
Though this library consisted of old histories and theologies, suited perhaps to the
" conscript fathers " of the town, but miserably adapted to the " proscript " children,
yet I wasted my youthful ardor upon its martial pages, and learned to glory in
war, which both rejison and conscience have since taught me to consider almost
imiversally a crime. Oh, when will men learn to redeem that childhood in their
offspring which was lost to themselves ! We watch for the seed-time for our
fields and improve it, but neglect the mind until midsummer or even autumn
comes, when all the artinism of the vernal sun of youth is gone. I have endeav-
ored to do something to remedy this criminal defect. Had I the power, I would
scatter libraries over the whole land, as the sower sows his wheat field.

More than by toil, or by the privation of any natural taste, was the inward joy
of my youth blighted by theological inculcations. The pastor of the church in
Franklin was the somewhat celebrated Dr. Emmons, who not only preached to
his people, but ruled them for more than fifty years. He was an extra or hyper-
Calvinist — a man of pure intellect, whose logic was never softened in its severity
by the infusion of any kindliness of sentiment. He expounded all the doc^ines
of total depravity, election, and reprobation, and not only the eternity but the
extremity of hell torment.s, unflinchingly and in their most terrible significance,
while he rarely if ever descanted upon the joys of heaven, and never, to my recol-
lection, upon the essential and necessary happiness of a virtuous life. Going to
church on Sunday was a sort of religious ordinance in our family, and during all
my boyhood I hardly ever remember of staying at home.

As to my early habits, whatever may liave been my shortcomings, I can still
say that I have always been exempt from what may be called common vices. I
was never intoxicated in my life — unless, perchance, with joy or anger. I never
swore — indeed profanity was always most disgusting and repulsive to me. And
(I consider it always a climax,) I never used the '' vile weed " in any form. I
early formed the resolution to be a slave to no habit. For the rest, my public
life is almost as well known to others as to myself; and, as it commonly happens
to public men, others know my motives a great deal better than I do.

Mr. Mann's father having died when he was thirteen years of age,
he remained with his mother on the homestead until he was twenty.
But an irrepressible yearning for knowledge still held possession of
him. "I know not how it was," said he to a friend in after life, "its
motive never took the form of wealth or fame. It was rather an
instinct which impelled toward knowledge, as that of migratory birds
impels them northward in spring time. All my boyish castles in the
air had reference to do something for the benefit of mankind. The
early precepts of benevolence, inculcated upon me by my parents,
flowed out in this direction ; and I had a conviction that knowledge
was my needed instrument."

A fortunate accident gave opportunity and development to this
passion. An itinerant schoolmaster, named Samuel Barrett, came
into his neighborhood and opened a school. This man was eccentric
and abnormal, both in appetites and faculties. He would teach a

368 HORACE MANN.

school for six months, tasting nothing stronger than tea, though in
this Dr. Johnson was a model of temperance compared with him, and
then for another six months, more or less, he would travel the country
in a state of beastly drunkenness, begging cider, or any thing
that would intoxicate, from house to house, and sleeping in barns
and styes, until the paroxysm had passed by. Then he would
be found clothed, and sitting in his right mind, and obtain another
school.

Mr. Barrett's speciality was English grammar, and Greek, and Latin.
In the dead languages, as far as he pretended to know any thing, he
seemed to know every thing. All his knowledge, too, was committed
to memory. In hearing recitations from Virgil, Cicero, the Greek
Testament, and other classical works, then usually studied as a pre-
paration for college, he never took a book into his hand. Not the
sentiments only, but the sentences, in the transposed order of their
words, were as familiar to him as his A, B, C, and he would as soon
have missed a letter out of the alphabet, as article or particle out of
the lesson. This learned Mr. Barrett was learned in languages alone.
In arithmetic he was an idiot. He never could commit the multipli-
cation table to memory, and did not know enough to date a letter or
tell the time of day by the clock.

In this chance school Mr. Mann first saw a Latin grammar; but it
was the veni, vidi, vici of Caesar. Having obtained a reluctant con-
sent from his guardian to prepare for college, with six months of
schooling he learned his grammar, read Corderius, ^sop's Fables, the
-^neid, with parts of the Georgics and Bucolics, Cicero's Select Ora-
tions, the Four Gospels, and part of the Epistles in Greek, part of the
Grseca Majora and Minora, and entered the Sophomore class of Brown
University, Providence, in September, 1816.

Illness compelled him to leave his class for a short period ; and
again he was absent in the winter to keep school as a resource for
paying college bills. Yet, when his class graduated in 1819, the first
part or "Honor" in the comencement exercises was awarded to him,
with the unanimous approval of Faculty and classmates. The theme
of his oration on graduating foreshadowed the history of his life. It
was on the Progressive Character of the Human Race. With youth-
ful enthusiasm, he portrayed that higher condition of human society
when education shall develop the people into loftier proportions of
wisdom and virtue, when philanthropy shall succor the wants and re-
lieve the woes of the race, and when free institutions shall abolish
that oppression and war which have hitherto debarred nations from
ascending into realms of grandeur and happiness.

HORACE MANN.

369

Immediately after commencement (indeed some six weeks before,
and immediately after the final examination of liis class, so tliat no
time might be lost ; for the law then required three years' reading in
a lawyer's office, or rather three years to be spent in a lawyer's office
without any reference to reading,) he entered his name in the office
of the lion. J. J. Fiske, of Wrentham, as a student at law. He had
spent here, however, only a few months when he was invited back to
college as a tutor in Latin and Greek. This proposal he was induced
to accept for two reasons : first, it would lighten his burden of indebt-
edness (for he was living on borrowed money ;) and, second, it would
afford the opportunity he so much desired of revising and extending
his classical studies.

He now devoted himself most assiduously to Latin and Greek, and
the instructions given to his class were characterized by two peculiari-
ties, whose value all will admit, though so few have realized. In
addition to rendering the sense of the author, and a knowledge of
syntactical rules, he always demanded a translation in the most ele-
gant, choice, and euphonious language. He taught his Latin classes
to look through the whole list of synonyms given in the Latin-Eng-
lish dictionary, and to select from among them all the one which
would convey the author's idea, in the most expressive, graphic, and
elegant manner; rendering military terms by military terms, nautical
by nautical, the language of rulers in language of majesty and com-
mand, of suppliants by words of entreaty, and so forth. This method
improves diction surprisingly. The student can almost feel his organ
of language grow under its training ; at any rate, he can see from
month to month that it has grown. The other particular referred to,
consisted in elucidating the text by geographical, biographical, and
historical references ; thus opening the mind of the student to a vast
fund of collateral knowledge, and making use of the great mental
law, that it is easier to remember two or even ten associated ideas
than either of them alone.

Though liberal in granting indulgences to his class, yet he was in-
exorable in demanding correct recitations. However much priva-
tion or pain the getting of the lesson might cost, yet it was generally
got as the lesser evil. One day a student asked the steward of the
college what he was going to do with some medicinal preparation he
had. "Mr. So and So," said the steward, "has a violent attack of
fever, and I am going to give him a sweat." "If you want to give
him a sweat," said the inquirer, "send him into our recitation room
without his lesson."

While in college, Mr. Mann had excelled in scientific studies. Ho

A.

370 HORACE MANN.

now had an opportunity to improve liiraself in classical culture. A
comparison of the two convinced him how infinitely inferior in value,
not only as an attainment, but as a means of mental discipline, is
heathen mythology to modern science ; the former consisting of the
imaginations of man, the latter of the handiwork of God.

In the latter part of 1821, having resigned his tutorship, he entered
the law school at Litchfield, Connecticut, then at the zenith of its
reputation, under the late Judge Gould. Here he remained rather
more than a year, devoting himself with great assiduity to the study
of the law under that distinguished jurist. Leaving Litchfield, he
entered the office of the Hon. James Richardson, of Dedham, was ad-
mitted a member of the Norfolk bar, in December, 1823, and imme-
diately opened an oflSce in Dedham.

We believe the records of the courts will show that, during the
fourteen years of his forensic practice, he gained at least four out of
five of all the contested cases in which he was engaged. The inflexi-
ble rule of his professional life was, never to undertake a case that he
did not believe to be right. He held that an advocate loses his high-
est power when he loses the ever-conscious conviction that he is con-
tending for the truth ; that though the fees or fame may be a stimu-
lus, yet that a conviction of being right is itself creative of power, and
renders its possessor more than a match for antagonists otherwise
greatly his superior.

In 182Y, Mr. Mann was elected to the Massachusetts House of
Representatives, for the town of Dedham, and continued to be returned
until the year 1833, when he removed to Boston, and entered into a
partnership with Edward G. Loring. At the first election after his
becoming a citizen of Boston, he was chosen to the State Senate for
the county of Suffolk, which post he was returned to for the four
succeeding elections. In 1836 that body elected him its president,
and again in 1837, in which year he retired from political life to
enter upon the duties of Secretary of the Board of Education. Dur-
ing his legislative course Mr. Mann took an active part in the discus-
sion of all important questions, especially of such as pertained to
railroads, public charities, religious liberty, suppression of traffic in
lottery tickets, and spirituous liquors, and to education.

He advocated laws for improving the system of common schools.
He, more than any other man, was the means of procuring the enact-
ment of what was called the " Fifteen Gallon Law," for the suppression
of intemperance in Massachusetts. He was a member of the com-
mittee who reported the resolves which subsequently resulted in the
codification of the statute laws of Massachusetts. He took a leading

HORACE MANN. 37I

part in preparing and carrying tlirongli the law whose stringent pro-
visions for a long time, and almost effectually, broke up the traffic in
lottery tickets.

But the act by which Mr. Mann most signalized his legislative life
in the House of Representatives was the establishment of the State
Lunatic Hospital of Worcester. This benevolent enterprise was con-
ceived, sustained, and carried through the House by him alone, against
the apathy and indifference of many, and the direct opposition of
some prominent men. He moved the appointment of the original
committee of inquiry, and made its report, drew up and reported the
resolve for erecting the hospital, and his was the only speech made in
its favor. After the law was passed, he was appointed chairman of
the Board of Commissioners to contract for and superintend the erec-
tion of the Hospital. When the buildings were completed, in 1833,
he was appointed chairman of the Board of Trustees for administering
the institution, and remained on the Board until rotated out of office
by the provisions of the law which governed it.

We subjoin a sketch of Mr. Mann's speech in behalf of the resolve
for establishing the Hospital : —

Mr. Mann, of Dedham, requested the attention of the House to the numbers,
condition, and necessities of the insane within this commonwealth, and to tho
consideration of the means by which their sufferings might be altogether prevented,
or at least assujiged. On reviewing our legislation upon this subject, he could
not claim for it the praise either of policy or humanity. In 1816 it was made the
duty of the Supreme Court, when a grand jury had i-efused to indict, or tlie jury
of trials to convict such person, by reason of his insanity or mental derangement,
to commit any person to prison, there to be kept until his enlargement should be
deemed compatible with the safety of the citizens, or until some friend should
procure his release by becoming responsible for all damages which, in his insanity,
he might commit.

Had the human mind been tasked to devise a mode of aggravating to the ut-
most the calamities of the insane, a more apt expedient could scarcely have been
suggested ; or, had the earth been searched, places more inauspicious to their
recovery could scarcely have been found.

He cast no reflection upon the keepers of our jails, houses of correction, and
poor houses, as humane men, when he said that, as a class, they were eminently
disqualified to have the supervision and management of the insane. The superin-
tendent of the insane should not only be a humane man, but a man of science ;
he should not only be a physician, but a mental philosopher. An alienated mind
should be touched only by a skillful hand. Groat experience and knowledge were
necessary to trace the causes that first sent it devious into the wilds of insanity,
to counteract the disturbing forces, to restore it again to harmonious action. None
of all those requisites could we command under the present system.

But the place was no less unsuitable than the management. In a prison little
attention could be bestowed upon the bf)dily comforts and less upon the mental condi-
tion of the insane. Th?y are shut out from the cheering and healing influences of
the external world. They are cut off from the kind regard of society and friends.
The construction of their cells often debars them from light and air. With fire
tliey can not be trusted. Madness strips them of their clothing. If there be any
recuperative energies of mind, suffering suspends or destroys them, and recovery
is placel almost beyond the reach of hope. He affirmed that he was not giving
an exaggerated account of this wretched class of beings, between whom and
hum:unty there seemed to be a gulf, which no one had as yet crossed to carry them

372 HORACE MANN.

relief. He held in his hand the evidence which would sustain all that he had
said. * *

From several facts and considerations, he inferred that the whole number of
insane persons in the State could not be less than 500. Whether 500 of our
fellow-beincrs, suffering under the bereavement of reason, should be longer sub-
jected to the cruel operation of our laws, was a question which no man could
answer in the affirmative, who was not himself a sufferer under the bereavement
of all generous and humane emotions. But he would for a moment consider it as
a mere question of saving and expenditure. He would argue it as if human
nature knew no sympathies, as if duty imposed no obligations. And, in teaching
Avarice a lesson of humanity, he would teach it a lesson of economy also.

Of the 298 persons returned, 161 are in confinement. Of these, the duration
of the confinement of 150 is ascertained. It exceeds in the aggregate a thousand
years; — a thousand years, during which the mind had been sequestered from tlie
ways of knowledge and usefulness, and the heart in all its sufferings inaccessible
to the consolations of religion. * *

The average expense, Mr. Mann said, of keeping those pei*sons in confinement
could not be less than $2.50 per week, or if friends had furnished cheaper support,
it must have been from some motive besides cupidity. Such a length of time, at
such a price, would amount to Si 30,000. And if 150 who were in confinement
exhibit an aggregate of more than a thousand years of insanity, the 148 at large
might be safely set down at half that sum, or 500 years. Allowing for these an
average expense of $1 per week, the sum is $52,000, which added to $130,000
as above, makes 8182,000. Should we add to this Si per week for all, as the
sum they might have earned had they been in health, the result is $234,000 lost
to the State by the infliction of this malady alone ; and this estimate is predicated
only of 298 persons,- returned from less than half the population of the State.

Taking results then, derived from so large an experience, it was not too much
to say, that more than one-half of the cases of insanity were susceptible of cure,
and that at least one-half of the expense now sustained by the State might be
saved by the adoption of a different system of treatment. One fact ought not to
be omitted, that those who suffer under the most sudden and violent access of in-
sanity were most easily restored. But such individuals, under our system, are
immediately subject to all the rigors of confinement, and thus an impassable barrier
is placed between them and hope. This malady, too, is confined to adults almost
exclusively. It is then, after all the expense of early education and rearing has
been incurred, that their usefulness is terminated. But it had pained him to
dwell so long on these pecuniary details. On this subject he was willing that his
feelings should dictate to his judgment and control his interest. There are ques-
tions, said he, upon which the heart is a better counselor than the head, — where
its plain expositions of right encounter and dispelthe sophistries of the intellect.
There are sufferers amongst us whom we are able to relieve. If, with our abund-
ant means, we hesitate to succor their distress, we may well envy them their
incapacity to commit crime. * *

But let us reflect, that while we delay they suffer. Another year not only gives
an accession to their numbers, but^removes, perhaps to a returnless distance, the
chance of their recovery. Whatever they endure, which we can prevent, is
virtually inflicted by our own hands. Let us restore them to the enjoyment of
the exalted capacities of intellect and virtue. Let us draw aside the dark curtain
which hides from their eyes the wisdom and beauty of the universe. The appro-
priation proposed was small — it was for such a charity insignificant. Who is there,
he demanded, that, beholding all this remediable misery on one hand, and looking,
on the other, to that paltry sum which would constitute his proportion of the ex-
pense, could pocket the money, and leave the victin)s to their sufferings? How
many thousands do we devote annually to the cultivation of mind in our schools
and colleges; and shall we do nothinsr to reclaim that mind when it has been lost
to all its noblest prerogatives ? Could the victims of insanity themselves come up
before us, and find a language to reveal their history, who could hear them un-
moved ? But to me, said Mr. Mann, the appeal is stronger, because they are
unable to make it. Over his feelings, their imbecility assumed the form of irre-
sistible power. No eloquence could persuade like their heedless silence. It is
now, said he, in tlie power of the members of this House to exercise their highest

HORACE MANN. 3*73

privileges as men, their most enviable functions as legislators 5 to become protectors
to the wretched, and benefactors to the miserable."

The execution of this great work illustrated those characteristics of
the subject of this memoir which have signalized his Hfe. The novelty
and costliness of the enterprise demanded boldness. Its motive
sprung from his benevolence. Its completion without loss or failure
illustrated his foresight. It was arranged that no ardent spirits should
ever be used on the work, and the whole edifice was completed with-
out accident or injury to any workman. The expenditure of so large
a sum as fifty thousand dollars without overrunning appropriations
proved his recognition of accountability. The selection of so remark-
able a man as Dr. Woodward for the superintendent, showed his
knowledge of character. And the success which, after twenty years
of experience, has finally crowned the work, denotes that highest kind
of statesmanship, which holds the succor of human wants and tho
alleviation of human woes to be an integral and indispensable, as it is
a most economical part of the duties of a paternal government. That
Hospital has served as a model for many similar institutions in other
states and countries, which, through the benevolent influence of its
widely-known success, have been erected because that was erected.

In 1835, Mr. Mann was a member, on the part of the Senate, of a
legislative committee to whom was intrusted the codification of the
statute law of Massachusetts, and after its adoption he was associated
with Judge Metcalf in editing the same for the press.

On the organization of the Board of Education for Massachusetts,
on the 29th of June, 1837, Mr. Mann was elected its secretary, and
entered forthwith on a new and more congenial sphere of labor.
From the earliest day when his actions became publicly noticeable,
universal education, through the instrumentality of free public schools,
was commended by his word, and promoted by his acts. Its advocacy
was a golden thread woven into all the texture of his writings and
his life. One of his earliest addresses was a discourse before a county
association of teachers. As soon as eligible, he was chosen a member
of the Superintending School Committee of Dedham, and continued
to fill the office until he left the place. In the General Court his
voice and his vote were alwaj^s on the side of schools.

Mr. Mann withdrew from all other professional and business engage-
ments whatever, that no vocation but the new one might burden his
hands or obtrude upon his contemplations. He transferred his law
business then pending, declined re-election to the Senate, and — the
only thing that caused him a regret — resigned his offices and his act-
ive connection with the different temperance organizations. He

S74 HORACE MANN.

abstracted Limself entirely from political parties, and for twelve years
never attended a political caucus or convention of any kind. He
resolved to be seen and known only as an educationist. Tliougli
sympathizing as much as ever with the reforms of the day, he knew
Low fatally obnoxious they were to whole classes of people whom he
wished to influence for good ; and as he could not do all things at once,
he sought to do the best things, and those which lay in the immediate
path c>f his duty, first. Men's minds, too, at that time were so fired
with partisan zeal on various subjects, that great jealousy existed lest
the interest of some other cause should be subserved under the guise
of a regard for education. Nor could vulgar and bigoted persons
comprehend why a man should drop from an honorable and exalted
station into comparative obscurity, and from a handsome income to a
mere subsistence, unless actuated by some vulgar and bigoted motive
like their own.* Subsequent events proved the wisdom of his course.
The Board was soon assailed with violence by political partisans, by
anti-temperance demagogues, and other bigots after their kind, and
nothing but the impossibihty of fastening any purpose upon its secre-
tary save absolute devotion to his duty saved it from wreck. During
a twelve years' period of service, no opponent of the cause, or of Mr.
Mann's views in conducting it, was ever able to specify a single in-
stance in which be had prostituted or perverted the influence of his
office for any personal, partisan, or collateral end whatever.

It is obvious, on a moment's reflection, that few works ever under-
taken by man had relations so numerous, or touched society at so
many points, and those so sensitive, as that in which Mr. Mann was
now engaged. The various religious denominations were all turned
into eyes, each to watch against encroachments upon itself, or favorit-
ism toward others. Sordid men anticipated the expenditures incident

* Dr. William E. Channing was the only man, among his friends and acquaintances, who
did not dissuade him from accepting the office. He wrote to }>im as follows:—

My Dear Sir :—\ undtrstand that you havetfiven yourself to the cause of education in our
fommonwealih. I rejoice in it. Not'liinir could <rive me greater pleasure. 1 have long desired
that some one uniting all your qualifications sliould devote himself to this work. You could
rot find a nobler station. Government has ni> nobler one to give. You must allow me to
labor under vou according to my opportunities. If at any time I can aid you. you mu.^t let
me know, and I shall be glad to converse with you always about your operations. When
will the h)W. degrading party quarrels of the country cease, and tlie better minds come to
think what Can be doiie toward a substantial, generous improvement of the community?
•'My ear is pained, my very soul is sick " with the monotonous yet furious clamors about
currency, banks, «&c., when the spiritual interests of the community seem hardly to be recog-
nized as having any reality, .wv ,,.

If we can but turn the wonderful energy of this people mto a right channel, what n new
heaven and earth must be realized among us ! And I do not despair. Your willingness to
consecrate yourself to the work is a happy omen. You do not stand alone, or form a rare
exception to' the times. There must be many to be touched by the same truths which are

My hope is that the pursuit will give you new vigor and health. If you can keep strong
outwardly, I have no tear about the efficiency of the spirit. I write in haste, for I am not
very strong, and any etTort exhausts me,, but I wanted to express my sympathy, and to wish
you God speed on your way.

Your sincere friend, Wsi. E. Channing.

HORACE MANN. 3^5

to improvement. Many teachers of private schools foresaw that any
change for the better in the pubHc schools would withdraw patronage
from their own ; though to their honor it must be said that the cause
of public education had no better friends than many private teachers
proved themselves to be. But hundreds and hundreds of wretchedly
poor and incompetent teachers knew full well that the daylight of
educational intellio;ence would be to them what the mornino; dawn is
to night-birds. Bookmakers and booksellers were jealous of inter-
ference in behalf of rivals ; and where there were twenty competitors
of a kind, Hope was but a fraction of one-twentieth, while Fear was
a unit. Mr. Mann for many years had filled important political ofSces ;
and, if political opponents could not find any thing wrong in what he
was doing, it was the easiest of all things to foresee something wrong
that he would do. Many persons who have some conscience in their
statements about the past, have none in their predictions about the
future. And however different and contradictory might be the mo-
tives of opposition, all opponents would coalesce ; while the friends
of the enterprise, though animated by a common desire for its ad-
vancement, were often alienated from each other through disagree-
ment as to methods. There was also the spirit of conservatism to be
overcome; and, more formidable by far than this, the spirit of pride
on the part of some in the then existing condition of the schools,— a
pride which had been fostered for a century among the people, not
because their school system was as good as it should and might be,
but because it was so much better than that of neighboring communi-
ties. And, besides all this, it was impossible to excite any such en-
thusiasm, for a cause whose highest rewards lie in the remote future,
as for one where the investment of means or effort is to be refunded,
with heavy usury, at the next anniversary or quarter-day. Then
questions respecting the education of a whole people touched the
whole people. Politics, commerce, manufactures, agriculture, are
class interests. Each one is but a segment of the great social circle.
While the few engaged in a single pursuit may be intensely excited,
the great majority around may be in a state of quiescence or indiffer-
ence. But, so far as education is regarded at all, it is a problem
which every body undertakes to solve ; and hence ten thousand censors
rise up in a day. It is an object not too low to be noticed by the
highest, nor to high to be adjudicated upon by the lowest. Do not
these considerations show the multifarious relations of the cause to
the community at large, and to the interests and hopes of each of its
classes ? And now consider the things indispensable to be done, to
superinduce a vigorous system upon a decrepit one, — changes in the

3*76 HORACE MANN.

law, new organizations of territory into districts, the building of scliool-
houses, classification of scholars, supervision of schools, improvements
in books, in methods of teaching, and in the motives and ways of
discipline, qualifications of teachei-s, the collection of statistics, the
necessary exposure of defects and of mal-administration, &c., &c., — and
we can form a more adequate idea of the wide circuit of the work under-
taken, and of the vast variety of the details which it comprehends.

Mr. Mann, in entering on his work, availed himself of three modes
of influencing the public. 1. By lectures addressed to conventions
of teachers and friends of education, which were held at first annually
in each county of the state. It was made his duty, as secretary, to
attend these conventions, both for the purpose of obtaining informa-
tion in regard to the condition of the schools, and of explaining to the
public what were supposed to be the leading motives and objects of
the legislature in creating the Board. His addresses, prepared for
these occasions, and for teachers' associations, lyceums, &c., were
designed for popular and promiscuous audiences, and were admirably
adapted to awaken a lively interest, and enlist parental, patriotic, and
religious motives in behalf of the cause. 2. In the Report which
he was required annually to make to the Board of his own do-
ings, and the condition and improvement of the public schools, he
presented more didactic expositions of the wants of the great cause
of Education, and the relations which that cause holds to the interests
of civilization and human progress. 3. In the '-''Common School
Journal^'' which he conducted on his own responsibility, he gave
more detailed and specific views, in regard to modes and processes
of instruction and training, and the general management of schools.

Of his numerous lectures, seven were published in a volume,* pre-
pared for the press, by a special request of the Board, in 1840. These
lectures alone would establish for him a permanent reputation as an
eloquent writer, and profound thinker, in this department of literature.
But his twelve Annual Reports constitute an enduring monument of
well-directed zeal in the public service, and of large, comprehensive,
and practical views of educational improvement, and of his power as
a master of the English language. We shall, in justice to Mr. Mann,
and for the valuable suggestions which even an imperfect analysis of
these remarkable documents must impart, pass them in rapid review.

* Lectures on Education, by Horace Mann. pp. 333. Confen/s.— Lecture L Means and Ob-
jects of Common School Education. H. Special Preparation, a prerequisite to Teaching,
HI. The Necessity of Education in a Republican Government. IV. What God does, and
what He leaves for Man to do, in the work of Education. V. An Historical View of Educa-
tion ; showing its dignity and its Degradul ion, VI. On District School Libraries. VII. On
School Punishments.

HORACE MANN. 3^^

Analysis of Mr. Mann'b Reports as Secretary of the Massachusetts Board
OF Education.

In his FIRST report, submitted less than five montlis after his acceptance of the
post of Secretary of the Board of Education, I\Ir. Mann presented a comprehen-
sive survey of the condition of the public schools of the state, under four heads ;
viz., I. The situation, construction, condition, and number of the school-houses ;
to which he devoted a supplementary report, with a free exposition of his
views in regard to ventilation and warming, size, desks, scats, location of school-
houses, light, windows, yards or playgrounds, and the duty of instructors in re-
gard to these structures. These were accompanied with two plans of the interior
of school-houses. II. The manner in which the school committees performed
their duties. Under this head he specified their neglect in regard to the time of
examining teachers, the character of the examinations, the hesitation in rejecting
incompetent candidates ; their neglect of the law requiring them to secure uni-
formity of school books, and furnishing them to the scholars at the expense of the
town, when the parents neglected to furnish them — their negligence in not en-
forcing attendance, regularity, and punctuality, and in not visiting the schools as the
law demanded. The causes of this neglect, want of compensation, and conse-
quently of penalty for non-performance of duties, the hostility often induced by a
faithful performance of duty, and the ingratitude with which their services were
treated, thus preventing the best men from accepting the oflace. Remedies for
these evils were also suggested ; viz., compensation for services, penalties for neg-
lect, and an annual report by each committee. \l\. Apathy on the part of the com-
munity in relation to schools. This is of two kinds. The apathy of those in-
different to all education, which, in the influx of an ignorant and degraded popu-
lation, would naturally increase ; and apathy toward the public or free schools,
on the part of those who considered them as not supplying the education needed,
and hence sought to procure that education for their children, in academies and
private schools. Under this head, he propounded the true theory of public
schools, the measures necessary to secure their efficiency, and the objections to
private schools as means of popular education. IV. Competency of Teachers.
The obstacles to this competency were considered ; viz., low compensation, pre-
venting its being followed as a profession ; the low standard of attainment re-
quired ; and the ulterior objects of those who engaged in it temporarily. With
a few remarks concerning the necessity of school registers, apparatus, &o., and
the best time for the election of school officers, the report closed.

Mr. Mann's second report, after briefly reviewing the evidences of progress
in Nantucket, and some other large towns, during the previous year, and the de-
hnquencics of others, is mainly occupied with the discussion of the importance of
better instruction in language, in the public schools, and the best methods of
eflecting it. The existing methods of instruction in spelling and reading are de-
scribed, their defects noted, and the measures proposed for remedying them men-
tioned. The teaching of the young child words before letters (a plan previously
advocated by Dr. Gallaudet,) is strongly recommended, and cogent reasons given
for its adoption. The faulty character of the selections in school reading-books,
are noticed, their want of connection and interest to the pupil, the utter unintel-
ligibility of many of them ; spellers and dcfiners discarded as suitable means of
giving children ideas of the meaning of words; dictionaries for. study, regarded

378 HORACE MANN.

as better, but still exceptional — the pi'eparation of readers, detailing in simple
and interesting style, events of home life — popular treatises on natural science —
voyages and travels and, as the vocabulaiy of the pupil increases, and his percep-
tions of matters of argument and reason increases, the advance to the discussion
of higher topics may be encouraged. Compositions, translations, and paraphrases,
should be required early, and generally should be of a descriptive rather than a
didactic character. The effects of this method of instruction are portrayed in
the vivid language of the secretary — its elevation of the taste, refinement of the
manners, and the preparation which it would give the community for the enjoy-
ment of a higher and purer literature. With a brief discussion of the question
whether the Board of Education should recommend a series of school books, and
some incidental allusions to matters of detail, the report closes.

Mr. Mann commences his third report with congratulations to the Board of
Education, on the evidences of progress and improvement evinced by the school
returns, and other facts which he lays before them ; and, after stating briefly the
efforts made for the instruction of children on the lines of railroad then in course
of construction, and the number and character of the violations of the laws rela-
tive to the employment of children in manufactories, without giving them oppor-
tunities of education, he proceeds to discuss, in all its bearings, the necessity of
libraries in school distflcts. lie gives at length, statistics, carefully collected, rela-
tive to the number, character, and accessibility of the existing libraries in the
state, showing that there were in the state, including college, society, theological,
and other public libraries, some 300,000 volumes ; that the use of them was con-
fined to not over 100,000 persons, while 600,000 had no access to them — that one
hundred towns of the state had no public libraries of any description ; that of the
books in the libraries, very few, not over one-twentieth, were adapted to the use
of childi'en, or young persons ; that many of them were out of date, old, and in-
correct ; tl:at the greater part of those in circulation were works of fiction, and
many of them of injurious or immoral tendency, while a few were composed
mainly of historical and scientific works. Other facts are stated, showing the
prevalent tendency in the popular mind, to read only, or mainly, works of fiction
and amusement. The mental and moral influence of various descriptions of
reading, is next fully discussed. The effect of reading, in the formation and
development of character illustrated. Statistics are next given of the lyceum and
other lectures, maintained in the state, their advantages and disadvantages are
shown, and the impossibility of their acting as substitutes for libraries, in the work
of public instruction, fully demonstrated. The reasons why school district libra-
ries should be established, and at the expense of the state, in part, are forcibly sta-
ted— the density of the population, the necessity for high education to sustain
such a population — the advantages of the subdivision of districts, in carrying
libraries to every man's neighborhood — the inability of the small districts to com-
pete, unaided, with the larger, in supplying themselves with libraries, yet their
greater need of them, from the brevity of their period of school sessions, are all
urged. The character of the books necessary for such libraries, is then dwelt
upon ; natural science, biography, well-written history, agricultural and popular
scientific works — works on physiology and hygiene, on morals and their applica-
tions— and, when practicable, biographical dictionaries, encyclopedias, and other
works of a similar character, as reference books, are specified. The general de-
mand for libraries, throughout the state, is noticed in conclusion.

HORACE MANN. 3Y9

In his FOL'RTii REPORT, Mr. Mann, after a brief general review of tlie gratifying
progress of the state, in educational matters, in the three yeai's prccotling, and a
portrayal of the material advantages which would ensue from the publication aod
circulation of the abstracts of the school reports, enters upon a full discussion of
the topics suggested by these reports, prefacing it by a brief account of the prin-
ciples on which schools have been supported since 1647, in Massachusetts.

The topics treated are the following : school districts — the evils of their minute
subdivision — the remedies suggested are the reunion of small districts, the plac-
ing the whole management of the schools, where it was placed originally, in the
hands of the towns, and the organization of union schools for the older scholars.
The last measure is urged on the grounds of the economy of the plan, and the
advantage gained in management and discipline ; the condition and repair of
scliool-housos is next considered, and a tax suggested, once in three or five years,
to furnish means to the committee to keep the school-house in good repair. The
inefficiency and unproductiveness of expenditure for public instruction, is next
dwelt upon — the statistics of private school expenditure for instruction, in the
branches taught in the public schools, given ; its wastefulness shown 5 the greater
advantages which would result from the expenditure of the same sum on the
public schools, demonstrated ; and the moral evils which the present course causes,
exhibited. The suggestions of the reports in regard to teachers^ are then con-
sidered. The advantage of increasing the number of female teachers, discussed ;
the deficiencies in the qualifications of those examined, commented upon ; and the
necessity of their possessing a thorough knowledge of common school studies,
aptness to teach, ability in management and discipline, good manners, and unex-
ceptionable morals, urged. The necessity of strict uniformity in school books, is
demonstrated ; the advantages arising from the introduction of school apparatus
and school libraries, mentioned ; constancy and punctuality of attendance urged,
on the grounds of the monstrous loss and waste of time and money which are
involved in irregularity and absence ; and the fearful deprivation of the best
hours of life to the young, a loss not to be repaired. The enforcement of regular
and punctual attendance is advised, by the efforts of the teachers to attach chil-
dren to the school, by the use of the register, the notification of parents, the exam-
ple of the teacher, and appeals to parents and guardians to encourage it. The
duties of superintending or town committees, and of prudential committees, are
briefly considered ; manifestation of parental interest in the schools, the evils
of forcible breaking up the schools, and of absences from final examinations, re-
ferred to ; and the report closes with a general retrospect.

In his FIFTH REPORT, IMr. Mann, after his usual resume of tlie results attained
the previous year, and a few remarks on the advantage of increasing the number
of meetings, and multiplying the points at which conventions of the friends of
education should assemble, and some passing notice of the ipiprovement in school
districts, school-houses, appropriations of money by the towns, amount and regu-
larity of attendance, length of schools, and uniformity of school books, discusses
at length the best methods of ascertaining the qualifications of teachei's for their
work, a duty devolving, by law, on the town or superintending committees. Un-
der the head of moral character, he recommends, where the candidate is not pre-
viously known to the committee, strict scrutiny of his credentials, and a registry
of the names of those who recommend them, and denounces, in the strongest
terms, those who would be guilty of furnishing recommendations to persons

380 HORACE MANN.

morally disqualified for the high calling of teachers of youth. Passing over the mat-
ter of the scholarship of the teacher, which can generally be ascertained without
much difficulty, he next considei-s the best method of ascertaining the ability of
the teacher to impart knowledge, and his capacity for mannging and governing a
school — points of great importance, but which many of the school committees
had declared impossible to be ascertained. In regard to the first, he recommends
that the candidate should be questioned on his method of using the blackboard,
his mode of teaching reading, whether he requires the children to understand
the meaning of the wo^ds, and the sense of the passage read, his instruction in
pronunciation, his time and method of teaching the arithmetical signs, his mode
of instructing in geography, grammar, and arithmetic, his practice in regard to
reviews, alternations of studies, &c. In relation to his ability to manage and govern
a school, he suggests inquiries into his methods of preserving order and quiet in his
school ; his views relative to the necessity and frequency of corporeal punishment ;
his practice in exciting emulation by prizes, <S:c. He also suggests that inquiry
should be made in regard to the special preparation made by the candidate for
teaching, what instruction he has received on the art of teaching, either in nor-
mal schools, or from books or teachers' periodicals. Some further suggestions are
thus made relative to the details of the examination of teachers.

The two Shaker societies had the previous year refused to allow their teachers
to be examined, or their schools visited. The secretary shows, with great force, the
absurdity of their course, and then passes to illustrate, by means of statistics and
otherwise, the inequality in the means of education in different towns in the state.
The facts being stated, he demonstrates by irrefragible arguments, and by the testi-
mony of several of the largest employers of labor in the commonwealth, the dif-
ference which this inequality of education makes in the productive value of the
labor of the educated and uneducated. lie thus shows, conclusively, that the
state and individuals would be very greatly the gainers, in a pecuniary sense, by
the universal diffusion of education. That a person with a good common school
education will, in the same business, ordinarily earn fifty per cent, more than one
without education — and this with less injury or expense of tools or machinery ;
and that such persons usually live better, and are better members of society. The
argument is an admirable one.

In his SIXTH REPORT, JNlr. Mann passes in review the progress of the preceding
year, in the school appropriations, the attendance, vacations in the annual schools,
employment of female teachers, compensation of teachers, reports of school
committees, breaking up of schools, qualifications of teachers, dismission of in-
competent teachers, school registers, and school district libraries ; and proceeds,
under the head of selection of studies, to urge the importance of the introduc-
tion of the study of physiology into the schools. To do this effectually, he goes
at considerable length into a statement and illustration of the laws of life and
health, and the daily and hourly violations of them by the masses, lie also sub-
mits the opinions of eminent physicians in regard to the importance of the study
of physiology and hygiene to the young, and enforces these opinions by further
argument and illustration. This portion of the report furnishes, in itself, an ad-
mirable essay on physiology and hygiene, and is well worthy of perusal and
study.

Mr. Mann, in his seventh report, after his customary review of the condition
of the schools of the state, proceeds to give an account of the observations made

HORACE MANN. 381

in his European tour of the preceding year, in which he had visited
a large number of schools in England, Ireland, Scotland, Prussia, Gci-many,
Holland, Belgium, and France. He visited not only the public schools of these
couuti'ies, but their institutions for the blind, deaf mutes, orphans, vagrants, and
juvenile offenders, also. Leaving these topics, however, Mr. Mann comes again
upon his own appropriate ground, and considers the fearful evils of a partial sys-
tem of education, as exhibited in England, giving numerous facts demonstrating
the great inequality of the opportunities of education, the disproportion in the sala-
ries of teachers, the vile and often degrading and obscene hooks used in the lowest
class of schools, and the necessity of a general supervisory power on the subject of
education. The school-houses, with the exception of some of the palaces devoted to
private or endowed schools in England, he regarded as decidedly inferior to those
of Massachusetts, in convenience and in ventilation. The reading-books, espe-
cially in Germany, were better than ours, as being more practical in their charac-
ter. There was but little more apparatus there than here. The blackboard was
universally used, and for more purposes than here. In some schools he found
the standard weights and measures of the country — a valuable aid to the under-
standing of the comparative quantities contained in them. In some of the
schools, as in Holland, there were cards containing fac-similes of the coins of the
realm ; reading boards or frames (since introduced here,) were also found there.
Models of implements of utility, collections of shells, minerals, seeds, woods, &e.,
and occasionally paintings of considerable value ; and, in nearly all, tasteful though
cheap engravings and maps adorned the walls. The Lancasterian schools he found
upon the wane, a " more excellent way " having been substituted for them. Pie
was much pleased with the mental activity displayed in the Scotch schools, and
with the thoroughness of their training in reading, and in exercises in language,
but thought there was too much harshness, and too strong appeals to emulation In
their management.

But the Prussian schools were, in his view, superior to any others he saw in
Europe. After reviewing briefly the orphan and vagrant schools of Potsdam,
Halle, and Horn, giving to the apostolic Wichern his due meed of praise, he
proceeds to treat of the classification of the Prussian schools, the method of teach-
ing in the primary classes ; and here he urges with great force the advantage of
the system adopted there of teaching words before letters. He also suggests that
the phonic or latitir method of spelling, which he found in use in Prussia, might
with advantage be adopted here. After a brief reference to the way in which
reading is taught in the higher classes, he proceeds to speak of their methods of
instruction in arithmetic and mathematics, in grammar and composition. In
writing and drawing, in geography, by the sketching of outlines on the black-
board •, in thinking exercises, knowledge of nature, the world, and society ; allud-
ing, under these heads, to the careful and thorough preparation of the teachers
for their work of instruction, and the entire absence of text-books, in instruction
in Bible history and music, which he found universally taught in Prussia. He
next gives an account of the seminaries for teachers, the preliminary course in
which their eligibility to become members of the seminaries for teachers was de-
cided, the course of instruction, its extreme thoroughness, and the high moral
and religious tone of the instruction. In reviewing the period spent in Prussia
and Saxony, he states these facts, viz., that he never saw a teacher hearing a
lesson with a book in his hand ; he never saw a teacher sitting ; and he never saw

382 HORACE MANN.

a child either arraigned for punishment, undergoing it, or liaviiig recently been
punished. He does not intend to imply, by the last remark, that corporeal pun-
ishment was entirely discarded, but that it was very seldom necessary to resort to
it. The earnestness and interest of the teachers in their work, their evidently
strong affection for their pupils, and the reciprocal affection engendei-ed by this,
were generally sufficient to produce obedience. Educational journals he found
abundant, and well sustained. The school inspectors were men of high attain-
ments, and qualified to fill the highest stations. School attendance was made
compulsory by law, the Darent being imprisoned if he neglected to send his child,
after repeated warnings — but so well were the parents convinced of its advant-
ages, that it was seldom necessary to appeal to the law. Mr. ]Mann next gives a
brief account of the higher schools (the real and burger schools,) of Prussia and
Saxony ; and assigns the reasons why, though the young are thus educated, yet
the nation is in a condition of such apathy.

He then proceeds to review some points, in the schools of other countries which
he visited. Corporeal punishment was not used in Holland. In Scotland and
England, on the contrary, it was in full force ; and, in some of the proprietary and
endowed schools of England, solitary confinement still prevailed. In France, he
found the system of surveillance in force in the boarding-schools and colleges —
the watching being as close as in a prison. Emulation is an incentive in the Eng-
lish and Scotch schools, of all grades ; and is allowed, though not extensively
practiced, in the Prussian and Saxon schools. Its application to religious instruo
tion and attainment, Mr. Mann thinks highly objectionable. The religious instruc-
tion, both in Great Britain and on the continent, is for the most part sectarian —
a measure fraught with many and great evils, not the least of which are its polit-
ical results. Mr. Mann closes with some eloquent reflections on the reasons we
have for thankfulness that our lot was not east among the effete, worn-out na-
tions of Europe ; but that here civilization could have new opportunities of trial,
unembarrassed by prescriptive rights, hereditary nobility, an absolute govern-
ment, feudalism, or pauperism ; and sums up v^'ith this great truth, that "/n a
republic, ignorance is a-crime ; and that private immorality is not less an op-
probrium to the state than it is guilt in the perpetrator.^^

In his EIGHTH report, after giving his usual statistics of the advance in the
cause of education in the state, and a few remarks on the increasing employment
of female teachers, the enlarged amount of town appropriations, the gratifying in-
crease in the number of school libraries, and the painful necessity of breaking up
schools from the incompetency of teachers, he advocates, at some length, the or-
ganization of teachers' institutes (which had already been established in New
York,) and recommends an appropriation for the nurpose; he also notices, with
approbation, the organization of county and town teachers' associations, suggests
that school registers should hereafter be provided, in book form ; specifies the re-
sults of an inquiry into the number of towns in which the Bible is not used iu
the schools ; and notices the causes which led to the removal of one of the state
normal schools from Lexington to West Newton. lie then proceeds to discuss
the question of the distribution of the school moneys among the districts, giving
statistics of the methods heretofore adopted, which were exceedingly various; and,
M'ithout entering into details, urging the view that the distribution should be
made in such a way as to give equal advantages to each district. Tliis does not
necessarily require an equal expenditure in each ; for one school may be large

HORACE MANN. 333

and require one or more assistants, another may be small and require but one
teacher ; one may be composed mostly of largo scholars and require a male
teacher, another of small scholars and be benefited by having a good female
teacher. Connected with this subject is the question of the power of the towns
to raise money for school purposes, beyond the minimum required by the statute.
JNIr. Mann defends the liberal construction of the statute ; not only from motives of
humanity and philanthropy, but from the evident design of the law-makers, as
demonstrated from other enactments bearing upon the question. Another point
considered in the report, is the teaching vocal music in the schools. He states
that about five hundred, or nearly one-sixth of the schools in the commonwealth
have already adopted the practice of singing in school ; and urges the importance
of its universal adoption, from the natural taste for it in all classes, from its refin-
ing, softening, and purifying power, from the excellent results which it has pro-
duced in other countries, and in our own wherever it has been introduced, for its
promotion of health, as furnishing the means of intellectual exercises, and for its
social and moral influence. He quotes also the opinions of Dr. Chalmers, and of
Napoleon, in regard to the power of music in controlling men. Having thus de-
monstrated the desirableness of this addition to school instruction, he proceeds to
consider the means of accomplishing the object. He suggests that the ability to sing
should, as far as possible, be made one of the qualifications of the teacher ; and
that, where this is impracticable, in the larger towns, a teacher should be hired,
and in the smaller towns, benevolent persons, accomplished in the art, should
volunteer to bestow instruction.

The NINTH REPORT commcnccs with some statistics of great interest; one table,
showing that there were but twenty-two towns in the commonwealth which had
not availed themselves of the state provision for school libraries ; another show-
ing the progress of the school fund for ten years ; a third giving the amount
raised by the towns for school purposes, showing that the expenditure for schools,
per annum, was more than one dollar for every inhabitant. The usual statistics
in regard to length of schools, attendance, &c., are given ; and the necessity of
enforcing a more full and punctual attendance, urged with great earnestness and
eloquence. The compensation of teachers is next considered, and the secretary
urges the necessity of increased compensation, and a higher standard of qualifica-
tion, especially for female teachers ; on the ground of the severity and responsi-
bility of their duties, the cost of training, and the fact that the best talent is now
drawn away to private schools and seminaries, in other states, by the higher
compensation offered them. The advantages of the new school register are pointed
out ; the cases in which schools were broken up through the incompetency of
the teacher, or other causes, which had largely increased under the new law of
the previous year, are next analyzed ; the number of new teachers, and the com-
paratively small number who make teach'ng a profession, are noticed ; an inter-
esting narrative is given of the holding of the first teachers' institutes, wliosc or-
ganization was due to #ie liberality of Hon. Edmund Dwight ; a retrospect of the
year, its progress, and its signs of promise, are recorded ; and Mr. Mann pro-
ceeds to discuss the duties of the state for the future, in the cause of educa-
tion.

In connection with this subject, he speaks at considerable length of school-mo-
tives, and of some means for avoiding and extirpating school vices. Under these
heads, he considers, first, the character, duties, and qualifications of the school

884 HORACE MANN.

committees, urging the importance of their placing moral improvement, in their
examinations of the school, in at least equal rank with intellectual progress,
and that they should discountenance the effort on the part of teachers to en-
courage intellectual progress, at the expense of moral culture, or the development
of the evil passions of our nature. He next passes to the motives that should
actuate the teacher. lie must not be a hireling. He must love children and
love his work. Tlie contemplation of his work, in its ever-changing character,
and its beneficence should constantly excite him to new zeal, and exhilarate his
spirits ; if it do not, he is unfit for his work. He should enter the school-room as
the friend and benefactor of his scholars 5 should aim to secure their good-will ;
sh(^ld lead, not drive. Order must be maintained, but it should be maintained
from reverence and regard for the teacher, and not from fear. No code of laws
should be enacted, but every act should be submitted to the conscience of the
school. Is it right ? not Is it written ? should be the question to be propounded
by each scliolar to his own conscience. It would be well for the teacher to speak
of the duties to be done, of the reasons and rewards appertaining to them, rather
than of offenses and their punishments. The moral instruction given by the
teacher should have reference to their duties in school and at home ; the duty of
cultivating the spirit of honor and kindness to each other ; the desire of aiding
each other's improvement ; the cowardice and meanness of attributing to others
our own faults and offenses ; the despicable character of falsehood and decep-
tion, &c., &c.

The government of the school is next considered ; the influence of the fear of
punishment, and of the restraint of higher motives, is compared ; and, though
corporeal punishment may be necessary in extreme cases, it should be abandoned
when higher motives can be brought to bear upon the pupil. Fear is neither
curative nor restorative ; it is, at some times and in some cases, preventive, and
hence should not be proscribed from the teacher's list of motives, but when both
teacher and pupil reach that higher plane of action, for which, we are striving,
we may hope to substitute love and duty for it. In this connection, Mr. Mann ex-
presses himself decidedly opposed to the practice of expelling refractory and dis-
obedient children from the school ; they should be retained and subdued. In the
exercises of the school-room, every true teacher will consider the train of feeling,
not less than the train of thought^ which is evolved ; and the importance of being
alive to the bearing and influence of them upon the character of his pupils
can not be overrated.

Imperfect recitations, and their penalties, may exert an unhappy influence.
The teacher should not induce them by giving too long lessons, and he should not
suffer any scholar habitually to break down in recitation ; and, above all, a class
should not be allowed to do so, from the loss of the sense of shame, contempt for
the study, and recklessness, which wouM follow. The other temptations in regard
to lessons are next considered, and the means of obviating and overcoming them
stated. The slurring or shirking lessons, the acted falseh^d of proeuring others
to do the work, and then presenting it as the pupil's own, the prompting others
at recitation, and the relying on others to prompt one, and the evils which follow
from them, and the best means of preventing them, are fully stated. The use of
keys, or answers, in mathematical studies, is also condemned, not more
for the ignorance of the principles of mathematics which it exhibits, than
for the deception and falsehood which it in-jvitably occasions ; and the teacher

HORACE MANN. 885

is recommended to give out original questions and problems, to thwart the
praetice.

The prevention of whispering, and other forms of communication, is the next
topic considered, and the various methods taken to prevent it are discussed, and
the moral danger attendant upon some of them noticed. The intense occupa-
tion of the pupils, and the elevation of the moral standard to such a tone as shall
array the moral force of the pupils against whispering, and in favor of self-denial,
are commended as the most eftectual preventive.

Truancy is another school-vice to be overcome. This can be done by rendering
the school attractive, by careful and accurate registration, and by frequent confer-
ence with parents. The motives to be brought to bear on children are numerous.
The objects of knowledge should be made attractive, both by their order of pre-
sentation and the manner of exhibiting them ; this requires high powers and
attainments on the part of the teacher. Fear, ambition, emulation, if used as
motives, must be used sparingly, and with a full consciousness of the evils which
would result from their excessive application. The relative rank which is as-
signed to mental and moral qualities in the teacher's mind, will determine the
propriety or impropriety of using emulation as an incentive. With some appro-
priate remarks on the preparation for school examinations, showing the necessity
of their being only the measure of the actual progress of the pupils in knowledge,
and some admirable suggestions on the possibility of inculcating moral lessons
through intellectual exercises, and a contrast of the inductive with the dogmatic
method of instruction, this able report closes.

Mr. Mann's tenth report commences with the announcement of some cheer-
ing facts relative to the advancement of the cause of education in the state. The
amount appropriated by the towns for the support of schools, had risen from
$400,000, in 1837, to $620,000, in 1845. The number of female teachers em-
ployed had increased from 3591 to 4997, while the number of male teachers was
only 215 more than nine years previous. More than $1,200,000 had been ex-
pended during the same period for the erection and repair of school-houses ; the
amount of apparatus had increased a hundred fold ; the methods of instruction,
through the influence of normal schools and teachers' institutes, and the greater
strictness of examinations, had been greatly improved. Examinations both of
teachers and schools had been conducted, in many instances, by written or
printed questions. The government and discipline of the schools had been much
improved ; induced by a higher degree of competency on the parts of the teach-
ers, more careful examination of the teachers, and visitation of the schools, and
deeper interest on the part of parents ; five hundred schools, almost one-sixth of
the entire number, had been taught, and well taught, without a resort to corporeal
pun'shment. The aggregate attendance had been a little advanced, though too
little ; and the average length of the schools had increased, since 1837, fifteen per
cent. The circulation of the school abstracts had accomplished a vast amount of
good, and the teachers' institutes and normal schools, were well attended, and
were qualifying a better class of teachers for the state.

Having stated these encouraging facts, Mr. Mann next proceeds to give some
account of the Massachusetts school system, commencing with the history of its
origin and the arguments for a system of free schools. He specifics, first, the ar-
gument adduced for it by its early founders, — the necessity of universal education
for the promotion of the Protestant faith,— an insufncient argument, because on

386 HORACE MANN.

that ground the Romanist should oppose it ; next, the argument that it was
necessary for the preservation and perjmuity of republican institutions ; this, too,
an untenable ground, as a monarchist should, in that case, be opposed to it; the
argument of the political economist, and of the moralist, who extends the
positions of the economist, are next stated 5 and Mr. Mann proceeds to defend
free schools, by an argument resting on higher grounds than either. Laying
down the postulate that every child of the human family has the same right to an
education that he has to inhale the air which keeps him in life, or to enjoy the
light of the sun, or to receive that shelter, protection, and nourishment, vi'hich are
necessary to the continuance of his bodily existence, he proceeds to defend this
postulate by the following argument. Property, whether real or personal, has for
its main, primary, and natural elements and ingredients, the riches of the soil, the
treasures of the sea, the light and warmth of the sun, fertilizing clouds, streams,
and dews, the wind, and the chemical and vegetative agencies of nature. But
these are the gifts of God, not to individuals, but to the race 5 hence the individual
can have but a life tenure, and is bound to transmit the property thus acquired,
not only unimpaired, but improved, to the next generation. Again, of that por-
tion of property which may be said to be the direct result of human toil, how very
small a portion is there, for which the present generation is not indebted to those
which liave preceded it ; our government, laws, institutions, our houses, roads,
churches, the arts, sciences, discoveries, and inventions, by which we are enabled
to apply labor profitably, were all, or most of them, handed down to us by those
xvho have preceded us ; and we are but the trustees of the accumulations of the
ages to those who shall come after us. It follows from these premises that the next
generation have a claim on that which we hold as property, such as the ward has
upon the guardian, and hence there is an obligation on us to qualify those yet in
their minority, for their future inheritance, and they have a right to the use of so
much of their future inheritance as may be necessary thus to qualify them, be-
fore they come into full possession. Mr. Mann illustrated this also in other ways,
as by the case of several jjroprietors of land on the same stream, where those
above cannot corrupt, or injure the quality, or diminish the quantity, of water to
which those below are entitled, and thus the occupant below has some claim upon
the waters above, before they reac^h his laud ; or, in the case of persons occupying
the same vicinity, one can not injure or vitiate the quality of the atmosphere,
which the others are to breathe. lie sums up the argument as follows : " The
successive generations of men, taken collectively, constitute one great common-
wealth."

The property of this commonwealth is pledged for the education of all its
youth, up to such a point as will save them from poverty and vice, and prepare
thorn for the adequate performance of their social and civil duties.

The successive holders of this property are trustees, bound to the faithful exe-
cution of their trust by the most sacred obligations ; because embezzlement and
pillage from children and descendants, are as criminal as the same offenses, when
perpetrated against contemporaries. Having thus laid his foundations broad and
deep, he proceeds to show how the free scliool system of Massachusetts is reai*ed
upon them ; giving first the constitutional provision relative to free schools,
and then, under the following heads, in popular language, the substance of the
legal enactment, and decisions bearing on the subject. Territorial organization of
the state, duty of towns to maintain schools (giving under this head the decision

HORACE MANN.

387

of the supreme court la the case of Cashing vs. Inhabitants of Newburyport,)
school districts, prudential eomn)ittecs, district school-houses, school district taxes,
contiguous school districts, in adjoining towns, union school districts, school com-
mittees, duty of the town committee to provide a school when the prudential
committee fails to do so, duty of the town committee in regard to schools kept for
the benefit of all the inhabitants of the town, visitation of schools, school-books,
religious liberty, teachei-s, Board of Education, school registers, inquiries and re-
turns, committees' reports, school abstracts, reports of the Board of Education, ap-
paratus, district school libraries, state normal schools, teachers' institutes, penal-
ties for not providing and for withholding the means of education, aids and en-
couragements to education, provision for answering the requests of other states
and countries.

With an eloquent peroration on the results which have already been realized
from this general diffusion of education in the state, Mr. Mann closes this long
and able report, occupying in all nearly 300 pages.

The ELEVENTH REPORT annouuccs an advance of more than $50,000 over the
preceding year in the appropriations for the support of schools, an increase of
241 in the number of female teachers employed, and an advance in the monthly
stipend paid to both male and female teachers ; which, however, especially in the
case of females, it still pronounces far below what it should be, and urges a decided
increase. The schools were held an average period of eight months, and the attend-
ance was also increasing. The tables in the school abstracts had been i)repared
by the secretary, and an important one added, arranging the towns in the state
in the order of their merit or delinquency in regard to attendance of scholars ;
thus demonstrating an important fact, that the attendance was much better in the
scattered rural districts than in the cities and lai'ge towns. In this connection he
.suggests the importance of a change in the apportionment of the income of the
school fund, bestowing it according to the actual attendance upon the schools, and
urges some potent reasons for such a measure ; he refers to an error in the act
of 1847, relative to the forwarding reports and returns by the school com-
mittees, suggests some improvements in regard to holding teachers' institutes, and
to the condition of the state normal schools, <Src., and then proceeds to discuss a
topic which he deems of vital interest to the state, viz., The power of common
schools^ if under proper management and control, and attended by all the chil-
dren of the state, to redeem the state from social vices and crimes. During the
preceding year, Mv. Mann had addressed a circular to John Griscom, Esq., an
eminent teacher and reformer, David P. Page, Esq., of the New York State Nor-
mal School, Solomon Adams, Esq., Rev. Jacob Abbott, F. A, Adams, Esq., E. A.
Andrews, Esq., Roger S. Howard, Esq., and Miss Catherine E. Beecher, all dis-
tinguished and experienced teachers, in which, after stating that he regarded high
moral qualifications as an essential to successful teaching, he had propounded the
following queries : —

1. " How many years have you been engaged in school-keeping ; and whether
in the country, or populous towns, or cities ? "

2. "About how many children liave you had under j'our care ; of which sex,
and between whaUages? "

3. " Should all our schools be kept by teachers of high intellectual and moral
qualifications, and should all the children in the community bo brought within
these schools for ten months in a year, from the age of four to that of sixteen
years ; then what proportion, — v, hat per ccntage, — of such children as you have

388 HORACE MANN.

Lad under your care, could, in your opinion, be so educated and trained, that their
existence, on going out into the world, would be a benefit and not a detriment, an
honor and not a shame, to society 1 Or, to state the question in a general form, if
all children were brought within the salutary and auspicious influences I have
here supposed, what per centage of them should you pronounce to be irreclaim-
able and hopeless ? Of course, I do not speak of imbeciles or idiots, but only of
rational and accountable beings."

The persons to whom these inquiries were addressed, were all believers in the
Calvinistic doctrine of total depravity, and a transmitted sinful nature, so that no
theory of the innate goodness, or peifectibility of human nature, could have in-
fluenced their opinion, yet there is a wonderful unanimity in the views they ex-
pressed. Mr. Griscom, a cautious, careful member of the Society of Friends, a
teacher for forty -two or forty-three yeare, replied : " My belief is that, under the
conditions mentioned in the question, not more than two per cent, would be irre-
claimable nuisances to society, and that ninety-five per cent, would be supporters
of the moral welfare of the community in which they resided. « * * » *
Finally, in the predicament last stated in the circular, and supposing the teachei-s
to be imbued with the gospel spirit, I believe there would not be more than one
half of one per cent, of the children educated, on whom a wise judge would be
compelled to pronounce the doom of hopelessness and irrcclaimability."

Mr. Page says, under the circumstances stated, " I should scarcely expect, after
the first generation of children submitted to the experiment, to fail, in a single
case, to secure the results you have named."

Mr. S. Adams says : " So far as my own experience goes, so far as my knowl-
edge of the experience of others extends, so far as the statistics of crime throw
any light on the subject, I should confidently expect that ninety-nine in a hun-
dred, and I think even more, with such means of education as you have sup-
posed, and with such divine favor as we are authorized to expect, would become
good members of society, the supporters of order and law, and truth and justice,
and all righteousness."

Rev. Jacob Abbott replies : " If all our schools were under the charge of teach-
ci's possessing what I regard as the right intellectual and moral qualifications, and
if all the children in the community were brought under the influence of these
schools, for ten months in the year, I think the work of training up the whole
community to intelligence and virtue, would soon be accomplished, as completely
as any human end can be obtained by human means."

Mr. F. A. Adams had met with but two boys, out of nearly four hundred, who
had been under his care, of whose correct conduct, under the circumstances
supposed, he would have any doubt ; and even them he could not regard as ut-
terly irreclaimable.

Mr. E. A. Andrews replies : " On these conditions, and under these circum-
stances, I do not hesitate to express the opinion that the failures need not be, —
would not be, — one per cent."

Miss Beecher says : " Let it be so arranged that all these children shall remain
till sixteen, under their teachers, and also that they shall spend their lives in this
city (i. e. the city where theyhad been taught,) and I have no*hesitation in say-
ing, I do not believe that one, no, not a single one, would fail of proving a re-
spectable and prosperous member of society ; nay, more, I believe every one
would, at the close of life, find admission into the world of peace and love.''

HORACE MANN. 3g9

Having obtained such weight}^ evidence in favor of tlie plan suggested, Mr.
Mann proceeds to consider what is necessary to carry it out, and states, as the
prerequisites, the advancement of all the teachers of the state to the physi-
cal, intellectual, and moral qualifications of those who now occupy the high-
est rank ; and, second, the power of enforcing the attendance of all the children
of the state in school ten months in the year, during the period between the
ages of four and sixteen. Can these prerequisites be attained 1 He believes
they can, and urges the following considerations. The talent and ability for a
supply of such teachers as are required, sufticient for this demand, exists in the state,
as is evident from the large number who, entering at first on the teacher's pro-
fession, forsake it for those more lucrative, and considered more honorable, and
who attain in these high distinction. If the standard of requirements was raised,
and the compensation put as high as the average of other professions, the num-
ber would soon be sufficient ; that the state could afford to do this, is demonstra-
ted from the fact that the expense would not exceed three times what it is now, and
the saving effected in the diminution of crime and vice, as is easily proved, would
amount to tenfold the cost.

In regard to attendance, he shows that the previous legislation of Massachu-
setts, and other states, settles the question of the power of enforcing attendance 5
that in most cases it would be a benefit to the parent, and in all to the child ; that
in the case of the vicious and indolent parent, who now lives on his child's labor,
it is but justice; and in the case of the honest and virtuous poor, to whom it
might be a hardship, the state could and should compensate for the loss of serv-
ice. In regard to the loss of service to the public, he demonstrates that the
number employed is comparatively few, and that, in these cases, the more intelli-
gent labor of the educated child, over sixteen yeai"s of age, would be sufficiently
profitable to compensate for any loss which might otherwise ensue. He then
urges, in a most eloquent appeal to the Board, the importance of taking this bold
step forward, and securing to the rising generation Universality of Education.

Some months prior to the presentation of his twelfth and last report, Mr.
Mann had resigned his office as secretary of the Board of Education, in conse-
quence of his election to Congress. This report was prepared at the request of
the Board, as his farewell address to those with whom, and for whom, he had, for
almost twelve years, so faithfully labored.

In this report he reviews his past labors, contrasting the condition of the public
schools of the commonwealth, at the time he accepted office, with their present
state, enumerating, with a justifiable pride, the doubling of the appropriations for
schools, the expenditure of 82,200,000 on school-houses during the period, the
rapid increase of female teachers, as indicating the high intellectual culture of the
sex, the increase in attendance, the organization and successful operation of the
state normal schools and teachers' institutes, the district scliool libraries, which, in
some seven or eight years, had risen from nothing, to an aggregate of more than
91,000 volumes, and th^ beneficent legislation of the past two years, by which the
sphere of the teachers' institutes was enlarged, power given to take land on ap-
praisal for the location of school-houses, the inmates of jails and houses of cor-
rection provided with instruction, the idiot and imbecile brought under humanizing
and enlightening influences, and the juvenile offender reformed, instead of being
brutalized by the associations of a prison. Having thus laid before the Board
the existing condition of education in the state, he proceeds, as in his former
reports, to discuss a pai-ticular topic, or class of topics more at length.

390 HORACE MANN.

Announcing, as liis general subject, "The capacities of oui* present school sy.«-
tcm to improve the pecuniary condition, and to elevate the intellectual and moral
character of the commonwealth," he proceeds to show the comparative insignifi-
cance of ^Massachusetts with most of the other states in territorial extent ; its
paucity of mineral resources, and of natural facilities for internal intercourse 5 its
rock-bound and sterile soil, and its political inferiority in the number of its repre-
sentatives in the national councils ; and then, in a passage of rare eloquence and
beauty, a regal gem, even among his profusion of brilliant passages, he urges that
her very diminutivencss should be a stimulus to higher achievements •, and that
" the narrow strip of half-cultivated land, that lies between her eastern and
western boundaries, is not Massachusetts ; but her noble and incorruptible men,
her pure and exalted women, the children in all her schools, whose daily lessons
are the preludes and rehearsals of the great duties of life, and the prophecies of
future eminence, — these are the state." Developing and applying this idea, he-
proceeds to consider the common school as the most effective and benignant of all the
forces of civilization and progress, and to show how the true business of the school-
room connects itself and becomes identical with the great interests of society.
He considers, first, the influence of correct views of physical education^ such as
might be disseminated from the school-room. By means of this, life might be
prolonged, sickness, insanity, and pain prevented, weakness replaced by vigor,
the appetites controlled, and the vices of excess subdued, and the body, God's
earthly temple, made fit and seemly for the abode of an indwelling divinity.

Considering next the beneficial effects of a universal diffusion of intellectual
education on the community, and especially a community situated like Massachu-
setts, he shows, by numerous illustrations, that the only efficient preventive of the
division of society into a wealthy aristocracy and a poor and dependent laboring
class, is that intellectual culture, which shall make the poor in money the equal
of the rich, in intellectual power, in inventive genius, and in that skill and crea-
tive energy which, whatever may be their employment, will prevent them from
remaining in the ranks of the poor. lie passes next to the consideration of polit-
ical education, and its influence in the promotion of wise action, in all that apper-
tains to the government of the state or the nation ; in the prevention of arbitrary
exactions, of monopolies, of lotteries, and of licenses for the commission of crime 5
the too frequent administration of the oath, under circumstances inviting perjury;
the preservation of the sanctity of the ballot-box ; and the inculcation of those
great principles of political science, which lie at the basis of all our institutions.

But far higher in importance is moral education. It is a primal necessity of
social existence. Educated intellect, nncontrolied by moral principle, would be but
the minister of evil. In all the history of man, intellect, unrestrained by con-
science, has subverted right, and turned good into evil, until, spite of the restric-
tions of law, the arguments of the moralist, and the warnings and appeals of the
minister of Christianity, it has attained a status so formidable, that some have
been ready to give up the world as a total loss, utterly gone to wreck. Tlie at-
tempt to give to all the children of a community a careful moral training has not
yet, however, been made; and, till this fails, we need not despair. We have in
its favor the strongest testimony of experienced teachers, and, more than this, the
declaration of holy writ : " Train up a child in the way he should go, and when ho
is old he will not depart from it." But to the full consummation of sa glorious a
result, more is needed than mere training, in morals. Religious education is

HORACE MANN. 39X

requisite. By this is meant, not sectarian education, not the teaching ;ifter and
of this or that denomination, but those great truths of revelation in which all can
agree, and which will cause men to know and reverence God, and love their
fellow-men. The question how this religious education shall be conveyed to the
young, is an important one. It must not be a religion established by government,
with its formulas and creeds, for all history shows that this uniformly shelters and
encourages the vilest hypocrisy and irreligion. It may not be done by permitting
to one sect or another the control of all religious instruction. It can only, in our
common schools, be accomplished by putting the Bible, the eternal rule of right,
into the hands of the pupils, and causing the teacher, by precept, and above all by
example, to enforce and illustrate its blessed teachings.

lu this connection, Mr. Mann vindicates, at some length, the Board of Educa-
tion, and himself, from the charge of encouraging or favoring irreligion, and, as it
was charged, with advocating '■'■godless schools.'''' He shows, conclusively, that
both the Board and its secretary advocated and urged the use of the scriptures in
all the schools, from some of which they had been rejected when he came into
office, but were restored at his instance ; that he and the Board opposed the
teaching of denominational catechisms and sectarian instruction, as being incon-
sistent with the laws, and deleterious to the best interests, of the schools ; and he
demonstrates, conclusively, that any other course would have proved ruinous to
the schools, of great and lasting injury to the community, and of no benefit even
to the parties who urged it.

"With a thrilling appeal to the citizens of Massachusetts to act worthy of their
fathei-s, and of the noble destiny which the future has in reserve for them, Mr.
Mann closes his report.

In a brief supplementary report, with his usual thoughtfulness for the welfare
of others, he suggests to the Board, that his successor will need an office (which
he had never had,) a clerk, and some compensation for his traveling expenses ;
and ineidentiily, though with great modesty, he unveils a part of his own arduous
labors. He had averaged fifteen hours labor per diem, from the time of taking
the office, had never had a day of relaxation, and, we may add, what he did not,
had expended more than the half of his salary for the cause of education.

The foregoing brief synopsis of Mr. Mann's twelve annual reports
to the Board of Education, will give the reader, who is not familiar
with the documents themselves, only a faint idea of the fullness and
ability with which the vast details of school organization, administra-
tion, instruction, and discipline, are discussed. To be appreciated
they must be read ; and we know of no series of educational reports,
by one mind, in any language, so readable, or so instructive. We
hope the author will consent to their republication — or, what will be
batter, will himself recast the whole into a complete treatise on the
public schools of Massachusetts.

Note.— The original eilition of these reports was long ago exhausted, but all except the
lOth, llth, and I2th, were republished in the ^'-Common School Journal sets of which can
still be had. To bring the many valuable suggestions, eloquently expressed, of Mr. Mann to
the knowledge of our readers, we shall enrich several of the subsequent numbers of our
Journal wilh copious extracts from his publications, arranged under appropriate headings..

392 HORACE MANN.

In addition to his annual and occasional lectures before county con-
ventions, educational associations, teachers' institutes, and lyceums ; and
to his annual reports, as secretary, Mr. Mann himself contributed
largely to the pages, and superintended the monthly publication, of the
'"''Common School Journal^'' making ten octavo volumes, with which
every public library of the country should be supplied, as a valuable
part of our educational literature.

No inconsiderable portion of each year was given to the prepara-
tion of the Abstracts of the reports and returns of the school com-
mittees of the several towns of the Commonwealth — a labor, before
his appointment, and since his retirement, performed by a clerk — but
which was added to his other duties, and which was cheerfully per-
formed, because of the intrinsic value of the documents thus prepared
and published. The real progress and strength of the common
school movement, can nowhere be better traced and felt, than in the
statistical tables and reports of committees to the several towns, in
these abstracts.

Added to all these laboi-s was a correspondence with school officei-s,
teachers, and active friends of educational improvement, both in and
out of the state, which, in itself, was sufficient to employ a clerk dur-
ing regular office hours, but which was performed by Mr. Mann, at
such intervals, in any part of the day or night, as he could command,
not otherwise appropriated.

To all these labors of the voice and pen — of brain and muscle — at
home and abroad — must be added the "wear and tear" of spirits,
as well as the physical labor of writing in defense of himself and the
board, from numerous attacks which were made, from time to time,
upon his and their measures and publications.

The most memorable of these attacks, as connected with the edu-
cational policy of the state, was the attempt made in the legislature
of 1840, for the abolition of the Board of Education, the discontinu-
ance of the normal schools, the payment back to Edmund Dwight
of the money which he had given to aid in the advancement of these
schools, and generally for setting things back to the point from which
they had started three years before. A majority of the committee
on education, sprang a bill upon the House for accomplishing these
purposes, without the knowledge of the minority of the committee,
who were favorable to the board, until a few hours before the report
was submitted. No opportunity was allowed, either by tlie commit-
tee, or the house, for a counter report, but an attempt was made to
drive the bill through, without delay and without debate. Delay was
secured, a counter report was made by the minority, a debate was

HORACE MANN. 393

liad, and the wise policy of former legislatures in establishing the
board, and in inaugurating the system of special institutions, and
courses of training for the professional training of teachers was ably
vindicated, and, contrary to all expectation, on the part of the best
friends of the board, and the secretary, the measure was defeated, and
so thoroughly, that no attempt was afterw^ard made to discontinue
this department of the government. The friends of public schools,
and of special institutions, for the qualification and improvement of
teachers, and of state supervision of the great interest of education,
in every state, owe a large debt of gratitude to those men who
achieved a triumph for the Board of Education, the normal schools,
and Mr. Mann, in the legislature of Massachusetts, in 1840.* Defeat
there and then, added to the disastrous policy in Pennsylvania, Ohio,
and Connecticut, about the same time, in reference to common schools,
Avould have changed the whole condition of public instruction in this
country, for a half century, if not forever.

In the winter of 1844, the fundamental principle of the common
school system of Massachusetts, its requiring of all teachers to incul-
cate the principles of piety, justice, universal benevolence, and other
Christian virtues, and its prohibition of those things " which are cal-
culated to favor the tenets of any particular sect " — the sole basis of
common schools can be maintained among differing and discordant
religious denominations — was assailed by violent attacks on the board
and their secretary, on the ground that they, and particularly Mr.
Mann, had, for the first time, asserted this principle, in such form and
to such extent as to exclude all religious men and all distinctive re-
ligious instruction from the public schools, and their administration.
To these grave charges, variously reiterated, Mr. Mann replied in
'''■Three Letters^'' which were afterward republished in a pamphlet,
entitled "TAe Common School Controversy J^ In these letters Mr.
Mann vindicates, in a masterly manner, both the policy of the consti-
tution and school laws of Massachusetts, in this regard, but showed,
undeniably, that the charges made against the board — as to the ques-
tionable religious character of a majority of the members who had
composed it, from time to time, and of the documents which the
board or secretary had published, and as to the influence and results
of their actions, and of their publication, so far as the same could be

*The majority and minority reports, together with letters from George P. Emerson, Sam-
uel G. Howe, and remarks in the house of representatives, by lion. John A. Siiaw, of Bridge-
water, afterward superintendent of public schools in New Orleans, will be found in the
^Common School Journal" for August, 1S40, Vol. II. pp. 22i5-46. Mr, Mann's own graphic
account of the matter, will be fouiid in an ad<iress, made by him, at the dedication of the new
builling erected for the State Normal School, at Uridijewater, in 1S46, and which we shall
append to this memoir.

394 HORACE MANN.

measured and ascertained — were without tlie substance or semblance
of truth. These letters, in their newspaper as well as their pamphlet
form, attracted much attention, were widely commented upon in the
religious as well as the secular press, and did much to disabuse the
public mind of the prejudices which had been fostered against the
board among many excellent people. The argument of these letters
was again ably presented, in a more formal and elaborate manner, by
Mr. Mann, in his twelfth annual report, and meets now with general,
if not universal, acceptance.

But the document which had at once the widest circulation, and
involved the author in the most varied, voluminous, and prolonged
controversy, was his Seventh Annual Report, giving the results of his
observations in the schools of Europe, in the summer of 1843. The
attacks made from various quarters, as to Mr. Mann's statement of
facts, or his speculations, as to modes of instructing deaf-mutes, of
managing juvenile delinquents, and methods of instruction and dis-
cipline in public schools generally, and particularly in those of Prus-
sia, with Mr. Mann's replies and explanations, did a vast amount of
good, by attracting the attention of educated men, and of teachers, all
over the country, to the condition of our own schools, both public and
private, and to the adoption, very widely, of the methods described.
The personal animosities which this controversy engendered, we trust,
are allayed or forgotten ; and we have no disposition to revive or
perpetuate them by any further notice, except to remark that, in its
progress, this controversy absorbed much time, and occasioned much
wear and tear of spirits — but did not diminish the amount or variety
of Mr. Mann's official labors. We are not sure but a good, sharp
controversy is necessary to get the largest amount of work out of all
the faculties of a mind constituted like that of Mr. Mann.

In retiring from his post, as secretary of the Board of Education,
in the autumn of 1848, Mr. Mann can justly claim that his labors,
during the twelve years he held the office, had more than realized all
the promises of good to the common schools which their friends
ever made, to induce the legislature to establish the policy of state
supervision. If we turn to the ^'■Memorial of the Directors of the
American Institute of Instruction^''* praying for the appointment of a
superintendent of common schools, drawn up by Mr. George B. Em-
erson, and presented to the legislature of Massachusetts, in 18>36, we
find that, in every way in which it was claimed an officer might act
for the good of the schools, Mr. !Maim did act with wonderful effi-
ciency, and the largest results.

* We append this Memorial.

HORACE MANN.

395

Of Mr. Mann's political career, this Journal is not the place to
speak in detail. On the 23d of February, John Quincy Adams, who
was the representative from the congressional district in which Mr.
Mann resided, died in the United States House of llepresentatives, at
Washington, and Mr. Mann liad the great honor of being selected for
two terms, by his constituents, as the most suitable person to succeed
him. But great as w^as the urgency, and powerful as were the mo-
tives which led Mr. Mann to accept the nomination, and, on his elec-
tion, to enter again the arena of political life, we, in common with
many other personal and educational friends, regretted then, and re-
gret now, his decision. It took him from a field purely beneficent, in
which he was more widely known, and more highly appreciated, than
any man living, and where he was every day gaining the willing attention
of a larger audience, from all creeds and parties in every part of the
country. By throwing himself, with his usual earnestness, and uni-
versally acknowledged ability, into the discussion of questions on
which the country was already bitterly and widely divided, he cut
himself oft' from the sympathy of a large portion of the people, even
on questions which involve no party issues ; and he soon, became im-
mersed in personal controversy, which exhausts the energies of the
best minds, without accomplishing large and permanent results in the
way of beneficent legislation. Whoever wishes to exert a pow^erful
and permanent influence in the great field of school and educational
improvement, must be able to command the attention and sympathy
of large portions of all the great political parties into which the
country, and every section of the country, is divided and sub-divided.
Whatever hopes Mr. Mann, or his friends, entertained, as to his ability
to induce the general government to aid, directly or indirectly, the es-
tablishment of an educational bureau, in connection with one of the
departments at Washington, or with the Smithsonian Institution,
were disappointed; and, after an experience of five years, during which
time Mr. Mann was a candidate for the office of governor of Massa-
chusetts, he returned again to the educational field, by accepting the
presidency of Antioch College, at Yellow Springs, Ohio.

Antioch College was established under the auspices, and by the pat-
ronage, of a religious body, designated by themselves "Christians," be-
cause the "disciples were first called Christians in Antioch." Mr. Mann,
since his residence at Yellow Springs, lias united himself in ecclesi-
astical fellowship with this denomination, officiates for them on the
Sabbath, and acts with them in the associations or conventions of
their (churches and congregations. In the administration and instruc-
tion of the college, Mr. Mann claims to stand on an unsectarian, al-

396 HORACE MANN.

though christian, platform ; but this claim has not shielded him, or the
institution, from the assaults of other denominations — not even from
the sect, whose charity in founding the college was not broad enough
to tolerate such teaching in ethics and morals only, as would satisfy
all professed believers in the New Testament.

The college was founded mainly on the "scholarship" principle — and
as all the funds collected on this basis, and many thousand dollars more,
were converted, not into a permanent fund to pay professors, and meet
the annual expenses of the institution, but into buildings which yield
no pecuniary income, it was soon ascertained that the larger the num-
ber of students sent up on scholarship certificates, the sooner would
come the utter bankruptcy of the enterprise. Hence it has come to
pass that, between the assaults of sectarian enemies — enemies from
"within and without the "Christian" church — and the importunate
claims of creditors, Mr. Mann has been again involved in unprofitable
controversy, and has been compelled to expend energies, needed to
realize his large educational plans, in saving the college, as a literary
institution, from the wreck of its financial policy.

In the original organization, and through Mr. Mann's entire man-
agement of Antioch College, thus far, he has aimed to secure three
points, beyond the ordinary scope of American college discipline.

1. To secure for the female sex equal opportunities of education
with the male, and to extend those opportunities in the same studies,
and classes, and by the same instructors, after the manner of many
academic institutions in diflferent parts of the country.

2. To confer the college degrees only upon persons who liave not
only sustained the requisite literary and scientific character, but who,
during their college coui-se, have not been addicted to low and mean
associations, nor branded with the stigma of any flagrant vice.

3. To establish, within the walls of the college, a common law,
which shall abrogate and banish the now recognized '' Code of Honor, ^'
and exhibit the true relation of students and Faculty to be that of
a large family, in which each member regards the honor of others, and
of the whole, as sacredly as his own, and does not withhold from the
Faculty any knowledge of the transactions of students, which the
best good of each student, and of the college, require to be known.

It is too early yet to speak of the success or failure of these plans,
so far as they are new, and so far as they challenge comparison with
older colleges. If they fail, it will not be from the want of ability,
earnestness, and industry, on the part of Horace Mann.

We should have mentioned that Mr. Mann received the degree of
LL.D., from Harvard College, and from Brown University.

HORACE MANN. 397

It is not the aim of tliis Journal, in its record of the activity and
services of living teachers, and promoters of education, to pronounce
a final judgment on the character of the subject of each memoir, or
the comparative value of the services rendered. In this instance we
copy from the ^^ American Phrenological JournaV the following analy-
sis of Mr. Mann's character and life, as dictated from a cast of his
head, by a manipulator in ^he office of Messrs. Fowler, in New York.
As Mr. Mann is a believer in the philosophy of Phrenology, he can
not object that the record which nature has written " to be read of
all men" is transcribed for the edification of our readers.

He has, naturally, great physical and mental activity, and a kind of wiryness
of body without sufficient vital force to give the sustaining power necessary for
long-continued physical or mental action. His body is slim and slight, yet very
well proportioned in its parts. His lungs are not large, the digestive system is
moderately developed, and the muscles are proportioned to the lack of vitality ;
hence he has not a high order of physical power, nor sufficient vitality to sustain
such power did he possess it. His chief care in regard to the body should be to
combine with his rigid temperance in gustatory matters, an equal amount of tem-
perance in regard to labor, exposure of body, and labor of mind. He has, doubt-
less, already learned by experience, that physical activity and labor, within due
bounds, are essential to clearness and strength of mind, as well as to health of
body. He can not, at his age, by muscular labor in the open air, give hardness
and great power to his physical system, yet he can in this way accumulate an ap-
parent surplus of physical energy for a given mental effort that may tax the sys-
tem to an unusual degree.

His brain is large for his body, and although the head in circumference is only
of full size, the hight of it is unusually great. The head may be denominated
a " three-story one," which gives elevation to his character, and an aspiring dispo-
sition. His power is moral and intellectual, rather than physical. "We seldom
find so large a brain in the tophead, in the region of the organs of reason, im-
agination, sympathy, dignity, perseverance, wit, and moral sentiment, joined with
so little basilar brain in the region of the animal and selfish organs.

There are several peculiarities of development which deserve notice. The
higher portion of the organ of combativeness is much larger than the lower ; the
latter being small, giving a disinclination for physical combat and a lack of ani-
mal courage, while the former being rather large, gives a tendency to intellectual
conflict and moral courage. His destructiveness never leads to the infliction of
unnecessary physical pain, — he dreads it, even upon an oyster, yet the anterior
and upper part of the organ appears to be sharp and fully developed, which gives
efficiency and severity of an intellectual and moral cast, as in criticism and re-
views of opinions, character, and conduct, and imparts general thoroughness of
disposition.

Secrctiveness is insufficient to produce more than ordinary policy and cunning,
but the anterior part of the ?)rgan, which works with intellect and the elements
of taste, imparts an elevated and intellectual policy, which acts in the adjustment
of thoughts in such a way that they sting error without offending delicacy. His
cautiousness is large in the anterior part, which leads to watchfulness, and that
care and painstaking which plans for prospective dangers and emergencies, and
guards against accidents, while the posterior part of the organ is not large enough
to produce timidity ; hence he frequently appears more courageous and brave than
the development of the organs of combativeness and destructiveness could inspire
him to be. Having planned a course of action, he proceeds among dangers with
a full consciousness of their position and character, and, to an observer, seems
reckless of them ; as a pilot, who knows well where the rocks and bars lie about
the channel, steers among them under fall sail, to the terror of those who know
there are rocks, but are not certain that the pilot knows their locality.

Ills constructivcness is largely developed, especially in its upper portion, giving

398 HORACE MANN.

planning talent and engineering ability, and greatly aids him in the construction
of a subject and arrangement of thoughts, so as to produce the desired effect with
the least friction. The lower, or tool-using part of the organ, is sufficiently de-
veloped to give fair practical mechanical talent, but his power in respect to mech-
anism is less as an executor than as a designer. "Were he to devote himself to
mechanism, his tendency would be upward toward the artistic, as in fine cutlery,
mathematical instruments, and the like.

Ideality is large, which gives not only good taste in respect to the beauties of
nature and art, but acts with the moral sentiments and intellect to give polish, re-
finement, and elevation to thought, sentiment, and expression. Whatever is rude,
unbalanced, and imperfect, displeases him ; hence he seeks to refine and polish
whatever he says and does.

His sublimity is large, and, in conjunction with veneration and firmness, gives a
passion for mountain scenery, and v\hatever is grand in the machinery of the uni-
verse ; hence he would pursue astronomy with passionate fondness as a field for
the range of sentiment, as well as for mathematical stud3^

If he has any one moral sentiment that overmasters all the rest, and in any
sense warps his judgment, it is benevolence, and he will more frequently be called
radical and infatuated when following its instincts than from any other cause. It
stimulates his conscientiousness, fortifies his pride and ambition, strengthens per-
severance, arouses energy, invokes logic, and awakens wit to do its bidding and
minister to its ends, and it may therefore be called the " team '■ of his' mind, the
central mental element of his nature.

He has a remarkable development of firmness. That organ is both very large
and sharp, indicating that it has been unusually stimulated to activity by circum-
stances, as if his course of life had been a pioneering one, — breaking new ground,
enforcing new modes of thought, and running counter to opposition, and the opin-
ions and customs of ages.

In respect to self-esteem, he has more of that portion of it that gives dignity
and manliness than of that which imparts a dictatorial, domineering spirit. In
early life he was inclined to defer to others, to shrink from responsibility, to
feel that others could do more and better than he ; at the same time he had no
lack of personal self-respect. Tliat part of self-esteem that produces the dictating
spirit, and the disposition to t.ake responsibility, has been developed along with
firmness, and doubtless from the same cause and course of life.

His conscientiousness is very large, and particularly so in the outer part of it,
joining cautiousness, which gives him moral circumspection, carefulness to do
right, as well as to entertain just principles ; hence he feels its binding force just
as much in the details of life, in the practical duties of the day, as in respect to
fundamental moral principles ; hence the law of expediency, as such, when brought
in conflict with the law of right, becomes nugatory.

His hope stretches forward prophetically, — he works for the future. He hopes
for little in the present, except that which he, by dint of cart and effort, can bring
to pass 5 and he is less inclined to trust his busine.'^s or interests in other hands
than most men. He feels that he must be in his affairs personally, and have an
eye over and a hand in the matter, or it will in some way go wrong. His hope
inspires to eff »rt, but not to expect success from luck, chance, or fortune, without
labor and vigilance. He is not a man to lie quietly on the sunny side of present
prosperity, expecting that " to-morrow shall be as thie clay, and much more abund-
ant," but to plow and sow, in the storm if need be ; yet he looks confidently for
the harvest, however remote it may be. This is as true of him in morals as in
business.

He has not a higli degree of credulity. That part of the organ of marvelous-
ness or spirituality which most influences liis character, is the inner or higher
part of it, which gives spiritual or religious faith, reliance upon truth and first
j)rinciples5 and, although he is radical and progressive, he is by no means credu-
lous. His mind is very critical, and rather skeptical, so much so that he takes
little upon trust, and feels impelled to a thorough, rigid examination of whatever
may be presented for his adoption ; nor is his large causality satisfied with any
thing short of this, for it leads him to .seek " a base line " for every thing in busi-
ness, in propositions, or in morals, as well as in mathematics.

Imitation and agreeableness are large, which give him the power of mental

HORACE MANN. 399

assimulation and harmony. He can reconcile apparently discorJant things, or
meet those who think differently from himself, without making manifust, in a high
degree, the real difference that may exist between them, and he will so far con-
form to an opponent as not to seem in opposition, until, by asking questions and
quoting particulars, he can show good reasons for a counter belief thus, and lead
his adversary into his own mode of thought.

lie has the organ called human nature large, which leads him instinctively to
the study of mind, whether appertaining to men, to childhood, or to animals
He sees at a glance the general drift of a man's intellect and character ; is strongly
impressed with the truth of those inferences, and acts upon them, and generally
with safety. If he takes a dislike to, or forms a favorable opinion of, a stranger
at first sight, subsequent acquaintance generally corroborates the judgment thus
formed •, hence, as a teacher, as a lawyer, or as a trader, he would, as it were,
recognize a man's mental sphere, and know what to say to impress a sentiment
or exert a given influence upon his mind. This faculty, joined with agi'eeable-
ness or suavitiveness, enables li^ to make palatable, and accepted without hesi-
tation, truths which, uttered harshly and in disregard of the tone of mind of the
one addressed, would be at once rejected.

Intellectually, he has some peculiarities. His reasoning organs are greatly
superior to his perceptives and memory. He has a remarkably critical and logic-
al cast of mind. lie has the power to sift, dissect, and essay propositions and
principles with great celerity and exactitude, while his large causality enables him
to see the propriety and logical cougruity of facts and propositions, and to present
those views to others in a clear, concise, and forcible manner. In juxtaposition
with causality he has very large mirthfulness, which gives him equal facility to
recognize and show up whatever is incongruous, ridiculous, or witty, in such con-
trast with truth and propriety as not only to amuse the mind of the hearer, but
to brand error and immortalize truth.

His faculties of memory and perception are doubtless active, appertaining as
they do to such an active temperament, and because his sentiments and his rea-
soning intellect urge them to effort, to furnish data on which the higher mental
forces may act. He finds it necessary to trust to memoranda for facts and st.a-
tistics, but when thus obtained, he knows well how to work them up into argu-
ments. His mind has much more to do with princii)les and elements than with
facts, hence he is much more a philosopher than a historian.

His language, instead of being copious, has this peculiar quality, viz., precision,
nice distinction, and ready appreciation of synonyms-, and, in speaking or writ-
ing, his faculty of tune, in connection with language and ideality, leads him to
seek euphony of expression, and a smooth, mellifluent style ,• and in this combina-
tion, with mirthfulness, ideality, and agreeableness added, consists his power of
expressing stern, cutting truth, in a poetical and pleasing manner.

It requires more effort for him than for most men to individualize his ideas, and
to concentrate his powtirs on a given mental effort. He wants time and quiet,
and a convenient opportunity. He can never bring out his full power of thouglit
on a subject instantaneously. He must survey the whole ground, and converge
his mind upon it logically ; hence, in off-hand, extemporaneous speaking, ha rarely
does himself or his subject full justice.

In moral and social dispositions he is strongly developed, and bears the marks of
special resemblance to his mother. He lias large adhesiveness, which makes him
eminently friendly. The upper part of philoprogenitiveness is large, which leads
him to regard the moral and intellectual good of children much more than to look
upon them as mere pets and playthings ; and he rarely plays with children with-
out holding virtue, intelligence, and morality up to them as the goal of their hopes
and efforts ; hence he seldom flatters them, or ministers to their animal gratifica-
tion. His love for female society is strong, yet delicate, and he is much more in-
terested in woman as relates to her refinement, and elevation, and purity of char-
acter, than passionally.

The home, the family, and its elevated endearments, is tlie scene of his highest
hopes and fondest attachments.

REMARKS

AT THE DEDICATION OF THE STATE NORMAL SCHOOL-HOUSE
AT BRIDGEWATER.

August 19, 1846.

The completion of a new edifice to accommodate the State Normal
School at Bridgewater was signalized by appropriate exercises, on the 19th
of August, 1846. Addresses were made during the. day by His Excellency,
Governor Briggs, Hon. William G. Bates, of VVestfield, Amasa Walker, Esq.,
of Brookfield, at the church, and in the ne% school-room. After these
addresses the company partook of a collation in the Town Hall, on which
occasion the health of the Secretary of the Board of Education was given
by the president of the day, and received by the company with enthusiastic
applause. To this sentiment Mr. Mann responded as follows, as reported
in the Boston Mercantile Journal.

Mr. President : Among all the lights and sliado-ws that have ever crossed my
path, this day's radiance is the brightest. Two years ago, I would have been
willing to compromise for ten years' work, as hard as any I liad ever perfonned,
to have been insured that, at the end of that period, I should see what our eyes
tliis day behold. We now witness the completion of a new and beautiful Nor-
mal School-house for the State Normal School at Bridgewater. One fortnight
from to-morrow, another house, as beautiful as this, is to be dedicated at West-
field, for the State Normal School at that place. West Newton was already
{)rovided for by private munificence. Each Normal Schorl then will occupy a
louse, neat, commodious, and well adapted to its wants ; and the Principals of
the schools will be relieved from the annoyance of keeping a Normal School in
an a6-Normai house.

I shall not even advert to the painful causes which have hastened this most
desirable consummation, — since what was meant for evil has resulted in so much
good. Let me, liowever, say to you, as the moral of this result, that it strengthens
in my own mind what I liave always felt ; and I hope it will strengthen, or cre-
ate, m all your minds, a repugnance to that sickly and cowardly sentiment of the
poet, which made him long

" For a lodge in some vast wilderness, •
Fome boundless contiguity of shade,
- Where rumor of oppression and deceit,

Of unsuccessful or successful wars,
Might never reach him more."

Tliere is oppression in the world which almost crushes the life out of humanity.
There is deceit, wliich not onlv ensnares the unwary, but almost abolishes the
security, and confidence, and delight, which rational and social boings ought to
enjoy in their intercourse with each other. There are wars, and the question
whether they are right or wrong tortures the good man a thousand times move
than any successes or defeats of either belligerent. But tlie feeling wliich springs
up spontaneously in my mind, and which I hope springs up spontaneously in
your minds, my friends, in view of the errors, and calamities, and iniquities of
the race, is, not to flee from the world, but to remain in it ; 7wt to hie a^vay to
forest solitudes or hermit cells, but to confront solfii-hness, and wickedness, and
ignorance, at wliatcvor personal peril, and to subdue and extirpate them, or to die
in the attempt. Had it not been for a feeling like this among your friends, and
the friends of the sacred cause of education in whicli you have enlisted, you well
know that the Normal Schools of Massachusetts would have been put down, aud
that this dav never wnuM liave shone to gUuldeu our hearts and to reward our

MR. MANN'S REMARKS AT BRIDGEWATER. 401

toils and sacrifices. Let no man ■v^Iio knows not wluit has been suffere;], what
has been borne and forborne, to bring to pass the j^resent event, accuse me of an
extravagance of joy.

Mr. President, I consider this event as marking an era in the progress of edu-
cation,— which, as we all know, is the progress of civilization, — on tliis western
continent and throughout the world. It is the completion of the first Normal
School-house ever erected in Massachusetts, — in the Union, — in this hemisphere.
It belongs to that class of events which may happen once, but are incapable of
being repeated.

I believe Normal Schools to be a new instrumentality in the advancement of
the race. I believe that, without them. Free Schools themselves would be
shorn of their strength and their healing power, and would at length become
mere charity schools, and thus die out in fact and in form. Neither the art of
printing, nor the trial by. jury, nor a free press, nor free suffrage, can long exist,
to any beneficial and salutary purpose, without schools for the training of teach-
ers ; for, if the character and quahtications of teachers be allowed to degenerate,
the Free Schools will become pauper schools, and the pauper scIkkjIs will pro-
duce pauper souls, and the free press will become a false and licentious press,
and ignorant voters will become venal voters, and through the medium and
guise of republican forms, an oligarchy of profligate and flagitious men will gov-
ern the land ; nay, the universal diffusion and ultimate triumph of all-glorious
Christianity itself must await the time when knowledge shall be diffused among
men through the instrumentality of good schools. Coiled up in this institution,
as in a spring, there is a vigor whose uncoiling may wheel the spheres.

But this occasion brings to mind the past history of these schools, not less than
it awakens our hopes and convinces our judgment respecting their future success.

I hold, sir, in my hand, a paper, which contains the origin, the source, the
punctiuu saliens, of the Normal Schools of Massachusetts. [Here Mr. Mann read
a note from the Hon. Edmund Dwight, dated March 10th, 1838, authorizing him.
Mr. Maun, to say to the Legislature, that the sum of ten thousand dollars would
be given by an individual for the preparation of teachers of Common Schools,
provided the Legislature would give an equal sum. The reading was received
with great applause.]

It will be observed, resumed Mr. Mann, that this note refers to a conversation
held on the evening previous to its date. The time, the spot, the words of that
conversation can never be erased from my soul. This day, triumphant over the
past, auspicious for the future, then rose to my sight. By the auroral light of
hope, I saw company after company go forth from the bosom of these institutions,
like angel ministers, to spread abroad, over waste spiritual realms, the power of
knowledge and the delights of virtue. Thank God, the enemies who have since
risen up to oppose and malign us, did not cast their liideous shadow^s across that
beautiful scene.

The proposition ma(ie to the Legislature was accepted, almost without oppo-
sition, in both branches; and on the third day of July, 1839, the first Normal
School, consisting of only three pupils, was opened at Lexington, under the care
of a gentleman who now sits before me, — Mr. Cyrus Pierce, of Nantucket, — then
of island, but now of continental feme.

[This called forth great cheering, and Mr. Mann said he should sit down to give Mr. Pierce an
opportunity to respond. Mr. Pierce arose under great einbarnLssnient ; starting at the sound of
his name, and half doubting whether the eloquent Secretary had not intended to name some
other person. He soon recovered, however, and in a very happy manner extricated himself from
the "fix" in which the Secretary had placed him. He spoke of his children, the pupils of the
first Normal School, and of the lionorable competition which ought to exist between the several
schools; and to tiie surprise-, as well as regret, of all who heard him, he spoke of being admon-
ished by infirmities which he cxiuld not mistake, that it was time for him Uj retire from tlie pro-
fession. The audience licit as it; for once in his life, this excellent teacher had threatened to do
wrong. He then told an amusing anecdote of a professor who retained his oflSce too long, and

was toasted by the studentJ? in the words of Dr. Watts.— "The Rev. Dr. , Hush, my babe,

lie still and slumber." And then he sat down amidst the sincere plaudits of the company, who
Beemed to think he was not "■ so plaguy old" as he wished U) appear.]

I say, said Mr. Mann, on resuming, that, though the average number of jVIt.
Pierce's school is now from sixty to eighty ; and though this school, at the pres-
ent term, consists of one hundred pupils, yet the first term of the first school
opened with three pupils only. The truth is, though it may seem a paradox to

\

402

MR. MANN'S REMARKS AT BRIDGEWATER.

Bay so, tlie ITorman Schools had to come to prepare a way for tliemselves, and to
show, by practical demonstration, what they were able to accomplish. Like
Christianity itself, had they waited till the world at large called for them, or was
ready to receive tliem, they would never have come.

In September, 1839, two other Normal Schools were established : one at Barre,
in the county of Worcester, since removed to Westfieid, in the county of Hamp-
den; and the otlior at this place, whose only removal has been a constant mov-
ing onward and upward, to higher and higher degrees of prosperity and use-
fulness.

In tracing down the history of these schools to the present time, I prefer to
bring into view, rather the agencies that have helped, tliau the obstacles w^hich
have opposed them.

I say, then, that I believe Massachusetts to have been the only State in the
Union where Xormal Schools could have been established ; or where, if estab-
lished, they would have been allowed to continue. At the time they were
established, five or six thousand teachers were annually engaged in our Common
Schools ; and probably nearly as many more were looking forward to the same
occupation. Ihese incumbents and expectants, together with their families and
cux'los of relatives and acquaintances, would probably have constituted the
greater portion of active influence on school affairs in the State ; and had they,
as a body, yielded to the invidious appeals that were made to them by a few
agents and emissaries of evil, they might have extinguished the Normal Schools,
as a whirlwind puts out a taper. I honor the great body of Common School
teachers in Massachusetts for the niJignanimity they have displayed on this sub-
ject. I know that many of them have said, almost in so many words, and, what
is nobler, they have acted as they have Siiid : — " We are conscious of our defi-
ciencies ; we are grateful for any meai^s that will supply them, — nay, we are
ready to retire from our places Avhen better teachers can be found to fill them.
We derive, it is true, our daily bread from school-keeping, but it is better that
our bodies should be phiched with hunger than that the souls of children ishould
starve for want of mental nourishment ; and we should be unworthy of the husks
which the swine do eat, if we could prefer our own emolument or comfort to the
intellectual and moral culture of the rising generation. W^e give you our hand
and our heart for the glorious work of improving the schools of Massachusetts,
while we scorn the baseness of the men who would appeal to our love of gain,
or of ease, to seduce us from the path of duty." This statement dtxjs no more
tJian justice to the noble conduct of the great body of teachers in Massachusetts.
To be sure, there always have been some who have opposed the Normal Schools,
and who will, probably, continue to oppose them as long as they live, lest they
themselves should be superseded by a class of competent teachers. These are
they who would arrest education where it is; because they cannot keep up with
it, or overtake it in its onward progress. But the wheels of education are rolling
on, and they who will not go with them must go under them.

The Normal Schools were supposed by some to stand in an antagonistic rela-
tion to academies and select schools ; and some teachers of academies and select
schools have opposed them. Tiiey declare that they can n)akc as good teachers
as Normal Scliools can. But, sir, academies and select schools have existed in
this State, in great numbers, for more than half a century. A generation of
fcchool-teachers does not List, at the extent, more than three or four years ; .so
that a dozen generations of teachers have passed through oin* Public Schools
within the last fifty years. Now, if the academies and high schools can supply
an adequate number of school-teachers, why have they not done it ? W^e have
w^aited half a century for them. Let them not complain of us, because Ave are
unwilling to wait half a century more. Acatlemies are good in their place ;
colleges are good in their place. Both have done invaluable service to the cause
of educjition. The standard of intelligei>ce is vjistly higher now than it would
have been without their aid ; but tliey have not provided a sufficiency of com-
petent teachers ; and if they perform tlieir approj)riate duties hereafter, as they
hiive done heretofore, they c^mnot supj>ly them ; and I cannot forbear, Mr. Presi-
dent, to express my firm conviction, tliat if the work is to be left in their hands,
we never can have a supply of competent teachers for our Common Schools,
■without a perpetual Pentecost of miraculous endowments.

MR, MANN'S REMARKS AT BRIDGEWATER. 403

But if any teacher of an acfidcmy had a right to be jealous of tlie Normal
Schools, it was a geutlenian now before me, who, at tlie time when the Briilge-
water Normal Scliool came into his town, and planted itself by the path which
led to his door, and offered to teach gratuitously such of the young men and
women attending his school, as had proposed to become teachers of Common
Schools, instead of opposing it, acted with a high and magnanimous regard to
the great interests of humanity. So far from opposing, he gave his voice, his
vote, and liis purse, for the establishment of the school, whose benefits, you, my
young friends, have since enjoyed. (Great applause.) Don't applaud yet, said
Mr. Mann, for I have better things to tell of him than this. In the winter ses-
sion of the Legislature of 18-10, it is well known that a powerful attack was
made, in the House of Representatives, upon the Boai-d of Education, the Nor-
mal Schools, and all the improvements which had then been commenced, and
whicli have since produced such beneficent and abundant fruits. It was pro-
posed to abolish the Board of Education, and to go back to the condition of things
in 1837. It was proposed to abolish the Normal Schools, and to throw back with
indignity, into the hands of Mr. Dwight, the money he had given for their support.

That attack combined all the elements of opposition which selfishness and
intolerance had created, — whether latent or patent. It availed itself of the
argument of expense. It appealed invidiously to the pride of teachers. It
menaced Prussian despotism as the natural consequence of imitating Prussia in
preparing teacliers for schools. It fomented political partisanship. It invoked
religious bigotry. It united them all into one phalanx, animated by various
motives, btit intent upon a single object. The gentleman to whom I have re-
ferred was then a member of the House of Representatives, and Chairman of the
Committee on Education, and he, in company with Mr. Thomas A. Greene, of
New Bedford, made a minority report, and during the debate which followed,
he defended ithe Board of Education so ably, and viildicated the necessity of
Normal Schools and other improvements so convincingly, that their adversaries
were foiled, and these institutions were saved. The gentleman to whom I refer
is the Hon. Joun A. Shaw, now Superintendent of schools in New Orleans.

[Prolonged cheers ; — and the pause made by Mr. Mann, afforded an opport\inity to Mr, Shaw,
in his modest and unpretending: manner, to disclaim the active and efficient ai^ency which he had
had in rescuini? trie Normal Schools from destruction before they had had an opportunity to
commend themselves to the public by their worlis; — but all this only increased the animation of
the compiuiy, who appeared never before to have had a chance to pay off any portion of their
debt (»f frratitude. After silence was restored, Mr. Shaw said that every passing year enforced
upcm him the lesson of the importance and value of experience in school-ket^ping. Long as ho
liad tJiutjht, he felt himself improved by the teachings of observation and practice; and he mus>t
therefore express his joy and gratitude at the establishment and the prosperity of^ the school at
that place, whatever might be the personal consequences to himself.]

Nor, continued Mr. Mann, is tliis the only instance of noble and generous con-
duct which we are bound this day to acknowledge. I see before me a gentle-
man who, though occupying a station in the educational world far above any of
the calamities or the vicissitudes that can befall the Common Schools, — though,
pecuniarily considered, it is a matter of entire indifference to him whether the
Common Schools flourish or decline, — yet, from the beginning, and especially in
the crisis to which I have just adverted, came to our rescue, and gave all his
influence, as a citizen and as a teacher, to the promotion of our cause ; and whom
those who may resort hither, from year to year, so long as this building shiiU
stand, will have occasion to remember, not only with warm emotions of the
heart, but, during the wintry season of the year, with warm sensations of the
body also.* I refer to Mr. Geo. B. Emersox.

[Mr. Emerson was now warmly cheered, until he rose, and in a heartfelt address of a few mo-
ments, expressed his interest in the school, and in the cause of education, which he begged the
young teachers not to consider as limited to this imperfect stage of our being.]

These, said Mr. Mann, are some of the incidents of our early history. The late
events which have resulted in the generous donations of individuals, and in the
patronage of the Legislature, for the erection of this, and another edifice at West-
field, as a residence and a home for the Normal Schools, — these events, I shall

• Mr. Emerson has fimiished, at his own expense, the furnace by which the new school-houso
is to b€ warmed.

404 MR. MANITS REMARKS AT BRIDGEWATER.

consult niy o-vrn feelings, and perhaps I may add. the dignity and forbearance
"W'hich belong to a day of triumph, in passing by without remark.

[This part of the liistory, however, was not allowed to be lost. As soon as the Secretary had
taken his si-at, the Rev. Mr. Wateraton, who had been inirlruniental in geltinu; up the subscrip-
tion to erect the two school-houstis, arose, and eloquently completed the history. He stated, iu
brief, thai the idea of providing suitiible buildings for the Nonnal Schools origiiiMted with some
thirty or loriy IVienils of popular education, who, without distinction of sect or party, had met, in
Boston, in tlie winter of J841-r», to express their sympathy with Mr. Miuni in the vexatious con-
flict which he had so successfully maintained ; and who desired, in some suitable way, to express
their a|)probation of his course in the conduct of the great and ditTicult work of reforming our
Common Schools. At this meeting, it was at tlrst projx)sed to bestow upon Mr. Mann some
token evincive of the personal and public regard of its members; but, at a subsequent meeting,
it was sugwsted that it would be far more grateful and acceptable to him to furnish some sub-
sumtial and efficient aid in carr>'ing forward the great work in which he had engaged, and in
removing those obstacles and hinderances both to his own success and to the progress of the
cause, which nothing but an expenditure of money could effect. No way seemed so well
adapted to this ptirj)ose as the placing of the Normal Schools upon a firm and lasting basis, by
lurnishing them with suitable and permanent buildings; and the persons present thereupon
pledged themselves (o furnish $50(K), and to ask the Legislature to furnish a like sum for this im-
portant i)uri)ose. 'J'he grant was cheerfully made by the Legislature, whose good-will has since
been further expressed by a liberal grant, to meet the expenses of those temporary Normal
Schools, called Teachers' Institutes. Mr. Mann, who had not yet taken his seat, then continued
as follows :]

I liave, my young friends, former and present pupils of the school, but a single
xrord more to say to you on this occasion. It is a word of caution and admoni-
tion. You have enjoyed, or are enjoying, advantages superior to most of tliose
engaged in our Common Schools. Never pride yourselves upon th^se advan-
tages. Think of them often, but always as motives to greater diligence and
exertion, not as points of superiority. As you go forth, after having enjoyed the
bounty of the State, you will probably be subjected to a rigid examination.
Submit to it without complaint. More will sometimes be demanded of you than
is reasonable. Bear it nSeekly, and exhaust your time and strength in perform-
ing your duties, rather than in vindicating your rights. Be silent, even when
you are misrepresented. Turn aside when oppfjsed, rather than confront oppo-
sition with resistance. Bear and forbear, not defending yourselves, so much as
trusting to your works to defend you. Yet, in counseling you thus, I would not
be understood to be a total non-resistant, — a perfectly passive, non-elastic sand-
bag, in society ; but I would not have you resist until the blow be aimed, not so
much at you, as, tlu-ough you, at the sacred cause of human improvement, in
which you are engaged, — a point at which forbearance would be allied to crime.

To the young ladies who are here — teachers and those who are preparing
themselves to become teachers, — I would say, that, if there be any human bemg
whom I ever envied, it is they. As I have seen them go, day after day, and
month after month, with inexhaustible cheerfulness and gentleness, to their ob-
scure, unobserved, and I might almost say, unrequited labors, I have thought
that I would rather fill their place, than be one in the proudest triumphal pro-
cession that ever received the acclamations of a city, though I myself were the
crowned victor of the ceremonies. May heaven forgive them for the only sin
which, as I hope, they ever commit, — that of tempting me to break the com-
mandment, by coveting the blissfulness and purity of their quiet and secluded
virtues.

U Wrighl Sciii.

<:^&.

CYRUS PEIRCE,

Br KXV. SAinTBI. J. MAT.

graiies, and, (or eight years, a " tear ; hers," as the first Princi-

jv Vormal School m was born Au-

in thetown of Wru. .... . ... ..L3,t]ie youngv.'*.L

' "^n of the same parents. He spont bis boyhood at
home, oil . i farm, which his father and tor several

generations 'aim, had 'cultivated. His p; .institution,

hereditarily sound, was confirmed by the pure air, wholesome food,
genial sip^hts and SOU' ■ '- hours of " nd by

a due partici|>ati«"n v ^. and th- . _ He

enjoyed the go< ; » oil-ordered Siniily, and of a steady,

<.listriot school,
pursued with littl(
" ther from his
that, whon r
;i.'t his teacher was not judi
I... '^^ should, nor giving her

the ) d that, at some future

\ .
day,«i:

PerceiM
determined ^ ^ <>

sent to Framingham AcAdemy, and iced under the

' n of Rev. Dr. Steams, of Lincoiii d to be ft

I'gh scholar.
;i 1806, Cynis Peirce entered Harvard College. There he soon
' * '' nd of his course, m. ' ' " ' ' * • "f •'

; man, a faithful, i
■< i not a brilliant recitation, s

406 CYRUS PEIRCE.

patient, persevering, than he was. Whatever the subject of study miglit be,
his mind took hold of it with a tenacious grasp, and never let go, until he had
reached a satisfactory result. In this particular, I have never known his equal.
The action of his intellect was rather slow, but he investigated thoroughly and
reasoned soundly. I therefore always considered his statement of facts, un-
questionably true; and his opinions as entitled to especial regard. His very
studious, as well as reserved habits, kept him much of the time in his room. At
recitations, from which he was never absent, no one gave better evidence of a
faithful attention to the exercises, in whatever department they might be. He
always showed,* when " taken up," that he had " got the lesson." Yet, owing
to his great modesty, his slow utterance, his entire lack of the faculty of " show-
ing off," he did not pass for half his real worth as a scholar. He was thorough
in whatever he undertook. He was inquisitive and candid. The exact truth
was his object ; and he patiently removed every obstacle in the way of his
attaining what he sought.

During Lis Sophomore year, in the winter of 1807-8, Cyrua
Peirce commenced his labors as a school-teacher, in the village of
"West Newton, the same town, and not far from the very spot, to
which he came, nearly fifty years afterward, to close his career, and
crown his brow with the last of those unfading laurels, which encircle
it, in the eyes of all who have felt or seen his influence as a Treacher
of Teachers.

In order to appreciate duly the value of his services, one must
know what was the character of our common, especially our rural
district schools, ffty years ago. Those who commenced their edu-
cation since maps and globes were introduced ; since the exclusive
right of Dilworth's and Webster's Spelling Books, and Morse's
Geography, and Dabol's Arithmetic, to the honor of text- books, was
disputed ; since blackboards were invented, or belts of black plaster-
ing, called blackboards, have come to be considered indispensable in
our school-rooms ; those who commenced their education since Josiah
Ilolbrook's, and such like simple apparatus, intimated to teachers how
much more intelligible and attractive, visible illustrations are than
verbal descriptions,— how much more easily any thing which is un-
derstood is grasped by the mind, and held in the memory; especially
those who have commenced their career since Warren Colburn made
so plain, so self-evident, " the recondite powers and mysterious rela-
tions of numbers," — showed how much of Arithmetic may be learnt
from one's own fingers, — how many problems may be solved without
having " learnt the rules," — solved by the intuitive deductions of any
mind that understands the premises ; those who did not live until
after Horace Mann, Henry Barnard, William Russell, William A.
Aicott, Alonzo Potter, S. S. Randall, Samuel Lewis, Warren Burton,
and their zealous fellow-laborers, had awakened the community
throughout New England, New York, Ohio, to the consideration of

* Throughout his college course, he made himself master of every lesson but one, at the
time ; and that one he learnt afterward.

CYRUS PEIRCE. 407

the inestimable importance of common scliools ; of tlie indispensable
necessity of convenient, light, airy, warm, well-ventilated school-rooms,
comfortable seats and desks, suitable text-books and blackboards,
maps, globes, apparatus ; and, more than all, well-prepared, skillful
and amiable teachei-s ; in short, those whose " school days " began
within the last twenty-five years, can have little idea of the character
of our common, especially our country district schools, at the time
Cyrus Peirce commenced his labors.

Thanks to the gentleman last named in the above list of distin-
guished friends of education and school reformers, thanks to Mr.
Warren Burton, there has been preserved a most truthful and graphic
picture of " The District School as it was," In the volume bearing
this title, written by Mr. Burton twenty -five years ago, he has given
accurate, lively sketches of methods, scenes, and characters, that were
common in the schools, as they were when he was a child, and not
wholly extinct when he took his pen to delineate them. His book
has been republished several times in this country, and once in Eng-
land. It should never be out of print, nor be wanting in any of our
public or private libraries, but kept at hand, that the children of this
and coming generations may be informed, how many more, and how
much greater, are the advantages provided for them, than were
enjoyed by their parents and grand-parents, when young ; so that they
may be prompted to inquire who have been their benefactors, that
they may do them honor. Then, I am sure, few will be found to de-
serve a higher place in their esteem, than the subject of this memoir.

Immediately on leaving college, in 1810, Mr. Peirce accepted an
invitation, from an association of gentlemen at Nantucket, to take
charge of a private school. He taught there two years very success-
fully, and gained the entire confidence and sincere respect of all who
witnessed his impartial regard for those committed to his care, and
his scrupulous fidelity to every duty he undertook to discharge. But
at that time his heart was set on another profession. So, in 1812, ho
returned to Cambridge, to complete his preparation for the Christian
ministry. For three years he prosecuted his theological studies, with
an assiduity not surpassed, it is believed, by any one, who ever dwelt
within the walls of Harvard. He seldom allowed himself more than
four hours out of the twenty-four for sleep; and he preserved his
health by strict attention to his diet and exercise. He never ate and
drank merely to gratify his appetite, but to keep his body in the best
condition to subserve the action of his mind. Every subject that came
up for consideration, in the course prescribed, he studied until he was
satisfied that he had arrived at the truth. Many of the dogmas

408 CYRUS PEIRCE.

taught in the churches before that day, he was led to distrust ; but
he rejected nothing hastily. If lie, like most other young men, could
give no sufficient reason for the faith of his childhood, he dismissed
nothing from his mind, which he had been taught to believe, until he
could give a satisfactory reason for dismissing it. He was most
scrupulously conscientious. He was severe in his demands upon him-
self; and, wherever truth and right were concerned, not indulgent to
others. Yet am I assured by those who knew him best, that he was
cheerful, amiable, tender in his sensibilities, and very companionable.

After three years thus spent in theological studies at Cambridge,
Mr. Peirce was persuaded to return to Nantucket, and resume the
work of a teacher. His former patrons had not found another, who
could adequately fill his place. During his previous labors in their
service, he had given them intimations of ability and skill in the
work of teaching, which they were anxious to secure for the benefit
of their children, even at a much greater cost.

Under this second engagement, Mr. Peirce continued at Nantucket
three years, laboring as the teacher of a private school, with great
success, and to the entire satisfaction of most of his pupils, and all
of their parents. In 1818 he left, and commenced preaching.

Up to this period Mr. Peirce was not only strict in his government,
but severe in his discipline. In the outset of his career, he very natur-
ally resorted to those instrumentalities that had hitherto been most
confidently relied on. Until after the first quarter of the present cen-
tury, corporal punishments of children, by parents and schoolmastei's,
were matters of frequent occurrence. I could fill more than all the
pages that will be occupied by this memoir, Avith narratives stored in
my memory, or preserved in files of old newspapers, or in the Crim-
inal Court Records, of cases of cruel chastisement of children, — girls
as well as boys, — by ferules, rattans, cowhides, stocks, pillories, im-
prisonm'ent, privation of food, and so forth. Little do they realize,
who have been born within the last twenty-five years, how much they
may have escaped of suffering, as well as of weariness at school ; and
how much they have gained from the greatly improved methods of
teaching and governing, that have been devised since the commence-
ment of that period. And it ought to be told them, that to no indi-
vidual are they, and the coming generations, more indebted for these
improvements than to Mr. Peirce. When he commenced the work of
a schoolmaster, the idea of managing a school without corporal pun-
ishment had hardly dawned upon the mind of any one. On
Nantucket especially, the people were familiar, in the whaling service,
with severe bodily chastisements ; and the proposal to manage "a

CYRUS PEIRCE.

409

parcel of boys," without any thing of the sort, would have been
deemed preposterous. It was reasonable and proper that the young
pedagogue should begin with the regime then most approved. x\nd
it was natural for Cyrus Peirce to try faithfully what he tried at all.
I can therefore believe that, in good faith, he did, when an inexpe-
rienced young man, inflict some chastisements that, at any time since
1830, he would utterly have condemned. It is not easy for those, who
have only seen and enjoyed the excellent schools on Nantucket within
the last twenty-five years, to conceive of them as they were in 1810,
when Mr. Peirce first went there. His work was really that of a
pioneer. If he did any good there, it was done by first establishing
order, a regular and punctual attendance, prompt and exact obedience
to rules, and faithful, hard study as indispensable in a school. If he
effected this by means of severe apphances, uncalled for at the present
day, when better views prevail, they were then so much matters of
course, that most of his early pupils, from whom I have received
letters, have not alluded to his severity as censurable. Indeed, only
one has even mentioned it. They all bear witness to his exceeding
strictness, — but only one tells me of any inflictions of severe bodily
chastisements.

Mr. Peirce was careful to prescribe a reasonable task to his pupils,
one that would try their powers, as he thought they ought to be tried
in order to be improved ; and then he was unyielding in his demand
for the exact performance of it. Not partly right, but " wholly, pre-
cisely right," was what he always required. " Study enough will
make a pupil master of any thing he is capable of learning," was one
of his maxims. " Boys who can study, but will not study, must be
made to study," was another. Order, " Heaven's first law," he deemed
indispensable in a school ; and he enforced it : he would have it. He
excused no intentional deviation from it ; even accidental violations
were not readily deemed excusable. Carelessness was to be blamed,
punished. His pupils were sent to him to be improved ; to acquire
valuable knowledge, and to form good habits, mental, moral, physical.
He was determined their parents and the community should not be
disappointed through any remissness of his ; and that his pupils should
not be allowed, for the sake of any present self-indulgence in idleness
or fun, or through carelessness, to cheat themselves of that informa-
tion, or of those excellencies of character, which they ought, in child-
hood and youth, to secure for the benefit of their whole lives, here and
hereafter. He adopted, at first, the so-called " good, old method "
of governing a school, and making boys obey and learn ; the method,
which, it was taken for granted in that day, Solomon meant to

410 CYRUS PEIRCE.

commend, when be said, " He that spareth Iiis rod hateth his son."

And in this, as in every thing else, "whatsoever his hands found to do,

he did with his might." But corporal punishments were not then

the characteristic of his school.

One of the contemporaries of the gentleman, who alone has made

any mention of his severity, gives me the following account of the

commencement of her acquaintance with Mr. Peirce :

It was in 1815, that myself and another girl, each under sixteen years of age,
were wending our way to the academy, where Mr. Peirce presided, to become
his pupils. We had conceived a strong prejudice against the man, expecting to
find him an austere, hard master, rigid and exacting ; who would not be satisfied
with our best efforts, and would be unmerciful to our failings. Under this strange,
very wrong impression, we strengthened each other, as we went ; and met him
well braced, — resolutely determined, if he did not suit us much better than we
expected, that we would leave his school, and that too, speedily.

In the course of that memorable forenoon, he questioned his new
pupil upon the branches of learning in which she presumed herself
to be quite a profficient ; and, without intimating that he meant to do
so, made her fully sensible of her ignorance. Coming, last, to the
subject of grammar, and finding her deficient in that also, he gave her
to parse the following sentence, — " What I know not, teach thou me."
She took the hint. She appreciated the delicacy, and began to love
the man, whom a few hours before she expected to hate ; and to rev-
erence one, " whose small head could carry all he knew." My corres-
pondent adds :

I shall always look back to the time passed in ]\Ir, Peirce's school, as one of the
best and happiest periods of my life. He inspired me with new views, new mo-
tives, a new thirst for knowledge ; in short, he opened an almost new terrestrial
world to me ; and, over and above all, he was the one who awoke in my mind a
deep interest in religion. Exact, cheerful obedience to all the laws of God, he
made appear tome a most reasonable service. My understanding was convinced,
my feelings were enlisted, and, by judicious management and careful nurture, he
led me onward and upward, untill sincerely think, I obtained, through his minis-
tration, "that hope which is an anchor to the soul, based upon the rock of ages."
I shall, therefore, always love and respect Cyrus Peirce, as my spiritual guide and
father.

Very similar to the above are the testimonies that have been given
me, in letters or orally, by hundreds of the pupils of Mr. Peirce, from
the beginning to the end of his career. lie kindly, yet effectually
made them sensible of their ignorance, and of their moral deficiencies.
He satisfied them of his ability to teach them more than they knew,
and to lead them in the way to eternal life. He prescribed to thera
tasks that they were able to perform ; he gave them rules of moral
conduct, to which it was right that they should conform themselves ;
and he never remitted any of his demands. He held them steadfast-
ly to the exactly true and right. Precision was the characteristic
of all his dealings, and all his requirements. His methods of inducing

CYRUS PEIRCE. 41 j[

Lis pupils to study, to get their lessons and recite them well, changed
as he grew wiser by experience, and learnt more of the nature of the
human mind and heart. But the object he aimed at, and the spirit
that animated him, were the same, from the beginning.

About a year after his return to Nantucket, Mr. Peirce married
Miss Harriet Coffin, of that place. She had been for several months
one of his most distinguished pupils ; and everywhere, ever since, she
has been his most intelligent, devoted, effective helpmeet. He could
hardly have accomplished all he has, in the cause of education, if he
had not been blessed with such a wife.

In 1818, as has been already stated, Mr. Peirce left Nantucket and
commenced preaching. In the course of the following year, he was
ordained and settled as the minister of a church, in the town of
North Reading, Massachusetts.

Eight years he lived there, faithfully discharging all his parochial
and social duties. He was universally acknowledged to be a man
of singular integrity and purity of life. His preaching was sensible,
earnest and direct. As in the school-room, so in the pulpit, his main
object was the discovery and the inculcation of the truth. He would
tolerate no violation of it in word or deed. He dwelt less upon the
dogmas of his sect than upon the precepts of Christ and his Apostles ;
always holding up the life and death — the character of Jesus — as the
illustration of that godliness to which all men ought to aspire.

Mr. Peirce saw, and did not fail to show, how far the men of his
generation, even the most zealously professing Christians, fell short of
the stature of Christ. He deeply felt the need of reform, and that it
should begin in the so-called house of God. He was among the
first to embrace the opinions of the apostolic Worcester, respecting
the custom of war ; and he assiduously inculcated the pacific spirit of
the Gospel, which has been quenched by the ambition of Christian
nations.

So, also, the cause of Temperance, the principle of total abstinence
from intoxicating drinks, is indebted to him, as one among its earliest,
most consistent advocates. He was in advance of his generation, and
therefore shared somewhat in the unpopularity, the obloquy, the hard-
ships of the pioneers in the moral world. Not being an easy, attract-
ive public speaker, those who were annoyed by his uncompromising
demands of personal conformity to the example of Christ, could the
more easily divert from him the attention of many, whom he longed
to benefit. He came to feel, as very many faithful preachers have
been made to feel, that he was spending his time and strength to too
little purpose. He suspected that he was not called to preach, so

412 CYRUS PEIRCE.

much as to teacli. Yet more was he persuaded that it would be
easier to prevent the children from becoming vicious, than he had
found it to reform those who had contracted bad habits of action or
thought. These considerations, operating together with some theo-
logical disagreements between himself and a portion of the people,
magnified, if not aggravated, by the heated controversies which were
so rife in that day, brought him to the determination to relinquish
his ministerial profession. At the expiration of eight years, there-
fore, he resigned his charge in North Reading, and returned to
" school keeping," as that which should thenceforward be the business
of his life.

He was earnestly solicited to return again to Nantucket, and resume
his labors there. But he was induced rather to unite with a relative,
Mr. Simeon Putnam, in the conduct of a school at North Andover.
His views of the true methods of teaching, and still more of govern-
ing pupils, had undergone some essential changes during the eight
years of his retirement, owing to the observations he was continually
making, all that while, as a diligent supervisor of the schools in
Reading. But his colleague adhered to the old methods and appli-
ances. Their discordance on these and other points was embarrassing
to them both. Therefore, after four years of arduous toil at North
Andover, he listened to the repeated and earnest solicitations of those
who had appreciated his former labors on Nantucket, and, in 1831,
removed once more to that island. I can not express the very high
esteem generally entertained for Mr. Peirce, throughout that commu-
nity, better than in the words, which I am permitted to quote from a
gentleman of great respectability, and long official standing. " There
has been no period," said he to Mr. Peirce, in 1830, " since you left
the island in 1812, when you could not have had a school here, of
any number of pupils that you would have undertaken to teach, and
at any price you would have thought it fair to charge."

This was not the exaggeration of a friend. His return was most
cordially welcomed. He immediately found himself at the head of a
large and lucrative school, in the instruction and management of
which, for more than six years, he was every way eminently successful.
During the whole of that period, he scarcely ever found it necessary
to apply corporal punishment of any kind. He had come to regard
it as the " last resort," and a very sad one, arguing some deficiency
of the requisite qualifications in the teacher, as well as uncommon
perversity in the pupil. He relied upon other means, higher persua-
sions, moral influences. How sincerely he was respected and loved by
his pupils of that period, the host of them, if not all, may be inferred

CYRUS PEIRCE.

418

from tlie following extract from a letter I liave received from a gentle-
man, now at the head of a most beneficent educational institution
n Massachusetts :

It is twenty-three or four years since I was one of Mr. Peiree's pupils, on
Nantucket. His name has ever been, and ever will be, fragrant in my recollec-
tion. His was the first school that I really loved to attend ; and he was the first
teacher for whom I felt a positive aflfection. « * * Mr. Peirce was eminent-
ly successful in discovering whether a pupil comprehended what he was endeavor-
ing to learn, or the language of the lesson he was reciting. Under his method
of teaching, I first began to understand what I was about at school. He would
not allow us to conceal our ignorance, or seem to know what we did not. He
would probe us through and through, and expose our superfieialness. Be-
cause I began to understand my text-books, I began to feel the exhilarating love
of learning for its own sake. I had been to school all my days before ; but it
had been, until then, a mechanical work to me. I can distinctly recollect this
blessed change in my mental condition. It was a new birth. A dispensation of
intellectual and moral life and light came upon me. Mr. Peii'ce seemed to me to
see through a boy, — to read his thoughts, — to divine his motives. No one could
deceive him • and it always seemed exceedingly foolish, as well as mean, to
attempt to deceive him, because he was so evidently the best friend of us all. I
can see him now, — moving rapidly but without noise about the school-room, always
alive to the highest good of every one ; quickening our pulses, every time he ap-
proached us, by some word of encouragement ; inspiring us with the determination
necessary to attain the object at which he pointed.

Mr. Peirce was very skillful in discovering the mental aptitudes of a pupil, and
drawing him out in the direction in which he was most likely to attain excellence;
thus exhibiting a boy's powers to himself, making him conscious of the ability to be
somebody, and do something. I can not give you particular examples, nor narrate
to you any single events in the history of that part of my life, which was blessed by
his direct influence. The hours I passed in his school-room at Nantucket are the
sunniest in the memory of my school days. But the elements entering into the
enjoyment and profit of those days, blend together in my memory, and lose their
distinctness, as the colors of the rainbow shade into each other.

This most excellent private school Mr. Peirce continued to teach
for six years ; assisted at first by his admirable wife, and afterward by
others, whom he had likewise educated and trained for the work of
teaching. It is said of General Washington, that " he evinced his
wisdom and skill not more in what he did himself, than in his selection
of those, to whom he committed the execution of any important duty.'*
A similar praise is due to Mr. Peirce. He never would employ an
assistant, whom he did not know to be thoroughly competent and
heartily disposed to teach well. " No man," he would say, " can shift
off any of his responsibility. A teacher is bound to make it sure, that
all the instruction given in his school shall be thorough, exact : ' Qui
facit per ahum facit perse,'" and he would doall the teaching himself,
unless he could find others, who would do a part of his work as well as,
or better than, himself. * He was, therefore, always blessed with able
assistants, when he had any. Among those who aided him, at the
time of which I am now writing, was Miss Maria Mitchell, who had
been his pupil, and who has since attained a world-wide ftime as an
astronomer.

414 CYRUS PEIRCE.

All the while Mr. Peirce was conducting so beneficently and ac-
ceptably this private school, he was exerting himseir assiduously to
effect the better organization and appointment of the public schools of
Nantucket. Indeed he was alive to all the true interests of the com-
munity, iu which he then intended to spend the residue of his earthly
life. lie suggested, or promptly encouraged and generously assisted,
various plans of social improvement. He took so active a part in
the temperance reform, as to incur the charge of ftmaticism. Intem-
perance was then a very prevalent vice upon the island. Some use
of intoxicating drinks was assumed there, as everywhere else, in that
day, to be a necessity ; and it was claimed that even a pretty free
use of it should be readily excused in those who were exposed to the
hardships and ennui of long whaling voyages. Mr. Peirce was
among the first to discover the utter delusion, that had got possession
of the people, respecting the use of ardent spirits. He satisfied him-
self that alcohol, in whatever form it might be disguised, contained no
nutritious qualities, imparted no enduring strength, but only stimu-
lated those who drank it to undue and therefore injurious efforts,
which impaired their vital energy. He therefore espoused the princi-
ple of total abstinence ; and not only commended it by his example,
but urged it with great earnestness upon all, in private conversations
and in public speeches. On one occasion, in a very large meeting,
surrounded by his fellow-townsmen, most of whom had been addicted
to the use of ardent spirits more or less, some of them excessively,
Mr. Peirce exposed, with the utmost plainness, the evils they had
brought, and were then bringing upon themselves and their depend-
ents, by that indulgence; and then declared that so deplorable were
the effects produced everywhere throughout that community, and the
country, by spirituous liquors, that he could and would no longer give
his countenance to the use of them in any measure, on any occasion,
for any purpose. " No," said he, with an emphasis and solemnity
that made his audience tremble, " if my life could be saved by no
other instrumentality than that of spirituous liquor, I would forego it
and die, in testimony of my dread and abhorrence of this enemy of
the health, peace, and virtue of mankind." This was the noble, the
holy spirit, which animated the Apostle Paul in regard to the same
vice. Some scouted, mocked him as a fimatic ; but others were
deeply impressed, lastingly effected by his words and his example.

Mr. Peirce, however, was known and made himself felt on the sub-
ject of education, more than on any other. He had come to be an
authority, on all questions pertaining to schools. In pui-suance of his
urgent advice, in accordance with a plan devised mainly by him, at

CYRUS PEIRCE. 414J

length the public schools of Nantucket were so arranged, in relation
to one another, that all the benefits of classification could be secured
in them. Primary, Intermediate, Grammar, and a High School
constituted the series.

So soon as the arrangement was completed, and the committee and
people looked about for the man fitted to fill the highest post, — to cap
the climax of their new system, — the eyes of all turned, with one ac-
cord, to Cyrus Peirce, as the only one to be found, on whom they
could rely to make sure the success of their great experiment. With-
out much hesitation, though at a considerable sacrifice, Mr. Peirce
relinquished his private school, which was much more lucrative and
less laborious, and became, in 1837, the Principal of the Nantucket
High School. It was to be made what it ought to be, — the first
best of the series, and a model of its kind. In no respect was it a
failure. It was indeed an eminent success. From his high position,
he shed down his influence upon all the schools on the island. He
infused into most of the teachers much of his own spirit. And the
common schools of Nantucket have, ever since, been distinguished
among the best in our country.

A few passages from a very valuable address, delivered by him,
December 15th, 1837, will show what was Mr. Peirce's ideal o^ educa-
tion ; and what pains he thought should be taken, and what expendi-
tures incurred, by parents and by the State, to secure this greatest
blessing to all the children of men :

Education is the development of all man's powers — physical, intellectual, and
moral. It is the drawing out of them all in their just harmony and proportion.
Itrej^ards the material frame, by which the mind manifests its operations. It is
the formation of character, the discipline of the intellect, and the building up of
moral principle, and moral power. Its aim should be to enable man to know, to
do, to enjoy and to be, all that his Creator intended he should know and do, enjoy
and be. The more nearly it approaches this point, the more nearly it will fulfill
its appropriate office ; and, when it shall have reached this goal, man will stand
forth ajtrain, as at first, the image of his Maker. » * * If such is the object,
and such the power of education, it should be regarded as the proper business, —
the greatest end of life, — rather than as a means to something higher and better.
It should fill a large place in the eye of the patriot, the code of the legislator, and
the heart of the parent, from neither of whom has it yet received one half of its
due consideration. * » » With all parents there rests an incalculable re-
sponsibility in this respect. It is time they knew, and felt it too, that they are,
without their own choice, their children's educators; their own house is a school-
room. * * * Provision for public instruction — the instruction of all the
children in the community — is the unquestionable interest and duty of every wise
government ; for the primary object of all wise governments should be to increase
the happiness of the people. And the highest quality of human happiness is that
derived from exalting the intellect and purifying the heart ; to the end that men
may aim at objects worthy of their ambition, and their social intercourse be regu-
lated with all the satisfaction of mutual love, honor and trust. * * * The
7nomZ powers of man are his glory. They ally him to natures angelic. How,
then, can that education be regarded as complete, which passes over the moral
sentiments? These, like the physical and intellectual faculties, can be prTfccled
and made to answer their full purpose, only by training and exeicise. What an

416 CYRUS PEIRCE.

anomaly is that scliool in which moral cultivation finds no place ! We have de-
fended schools, on the ground of public and private utility — as the palladium of
social virtue and civil liberty. Now the prosperity of a community is far more
dependent on sound moral sentiment, than on a high state of intellectual refine-
ment. Nothing is more true than that men may be great and learned, without
being good and useful. Men of high intellectual endowments, but destitute of
moral principle, are far from being the best materials to compose society. We
want great men, we want learned men, but much more do we want good men.
On these must the community rely to carry forward the great work of human im-
provement. * * « How often has individual genius, that seemed angel-like
in the loftiness of its aspirations, bowed before mean temptations, which timely
discipline would have enabled it to withstand ! Our own nation, though young,
has more than once been seen to tremble on the verge of ruin ; but, it is worthy
of remark, that such a crisis in no instance has been the result of ignorance, but
of the destitution of moral principle. If our union and liberties are ever ship-
wrecked, this is the rock on which they will split. "We shall always have enough
great men ; the only danger is, that there will not be enough good men, — men of
disciplined passions, nice moral discrimination and active benevolence. * * *
A cultivated intellect, cast upon society, uncontrolled and unsanctified by moral sen-
timents, is but the scattering of arrows, fire-brands and death. Therefoie the edu-
calffon of the moral sentiments should be a primary object with all, who have
any thing to do with instruction. If children are taught but owe thing, whether at
home or at school, let it be — their duty. Let it be love of truth, sobriety, tem-
perance, order, justice, and humanity. If you make them anything, make them
good. * * * It is a fact, which does not speak to our praise, that almost every
class-book adopted into our schools is prepared to teach how to read, or get, or
calculate ; to teach mere sciences, as though these were the great objects of life.
Let something more be put into the hands of children, to teach them how to
feel, to act, to live. * * * Health sttmds among the first of blessings.
Children would do well to learn something of the structure, laws and economy of
their own material frame; what food, habits, attitudes, exercises and modes of
living, are consistent with, opposed to, or promotive of health. What an incalcu-
lable benefit might thus be rendered to children, by making them early the intelli-
gent guardians of a trust, to them of inestimable value ! Would it not be doing
them quite as great a service to demonstrate the natural consequences of inaction,
over-action, tight lacing, exposure, excess, or licentiousness, — to teach them what
are healthy attitudes and healthy diets, — how they may avoid a headache, a fever,
or a consumption, as to teach them the solution of a difficult problem in algebra,
or keep them eternally casting percentage ? As connected with the subject of
health, as well as for the reason of aflording to children the means of suitable
amusement .ind exercise, every school should be furnished with some simple ap-
paratus for gymnastic purposes. Such provision might indeed be made auxiliary
to good manners and morals, as well as to sound health. « * * Why should
not the rising generation be regarded as a public trust, and their education be sus-
tained at the public charge ? Nothing exerts so great an influence on the charac-
ter of the present and the coming age ; nothing on public and private virtue and
happiness ; nothing on the prosperity and perpetuity of our institutions. Noth-
ing can better subserve the interests of liberty and the equalization of rights ;
nothing will better enable the poor and the middling interest to make an effectual
stand against the encroachments of power, of wealth and of title ; or the friends
of order and law to frustrate the designs of the intriguing demagogue, or restrain
the outbreakings of popular phrenzy, than sound education. Here, here, fellow-
citizens, is the palladium of your liberties, — of all that is valuable in the social
fabric. It is not only connected therewith, but constitutes its very life. Why
then should not the public assume the education of the child ? « * * Then
every class of citizens, and every individual, would feel a direct and immediate in-
terest and concern in the public schools ; and these would rise to an elovation of
character, which has yet hardly been reached by our best private establishments.
Our children would be educated together, without distinction of rank ; and this,
if it has no oth-r recommendation, would certainly better comport with our repub-
lican habits and institutions. « * * If the children of the affluent go to one
school, and the children of mechanics and the poor to another, will not the ten-
dency bo to kii<fp up a distinction of ranks in society ? ♦ * • To have good

CYRUS PEIRCE. 41 7

schools, we must have good teachers, — teachers of the right temper and disposi-
tion, and of the proper scholastic attainments. * * * Where shall we get
them ? How and where shall they be qualified ? * * * Would it be any
thing more than a consistent carrying out and completion of the school system
already begun, — yea, would it exceed the limits of a judicious economy, to appro-
priate funds for establishing seminaries, in which teachers, themselves, may bo
taught how to teach. * * * This, it seems to us, more than any thing, our
schools need ; and this the community should demand.

Quickened by the spirit and guided by the principles of this ex-
cellent address, the people of Nantucket were led to make many
improvements in their system of free schools. They enlarged the
number of them, and graduated them in relation to each other, from
the Primary to the High School; introduced improved desks and
seats, effective ventilators, better text-books, and took greater pains
to secure the services of well-qualified teachers. The private schools
were, to a considerable extent, relinquished ; and the children of all
classes came together, as they were able, to enjoy alike the common
bounty, — of all classes except that which had always been subjected to
the greatest disadvantages, and therefore needed assistance and encour-
agement the most. The colored inhabitants of the town were not allowed
to send their children into the public Grammar Schools ; but a pro-
vision was made to educate them by themselves. Against this decision,
Mr. Peirce remonstrated and contended, with his wonted earnestness
and determination. But the " prejudice against color" was too
mighty for his appeals to prevail. He left his protest against this wrong.
It will be preserved ; and, in some future day, it will be read with
greater admiration than it would awaken now.

The address, from which we have just made liberal extracts, could
not escape the vigilant notice of those wise and earnest philanthro-
pists, who, at that time, were most intent upon the improvement of
our system of pubjic instruction. In 1837, the Hon. Horace Mann,
(whose acceptance of the secretaryship of the then newly-created
Board of Education in Massachusetts, was an era in the progress of
Christian civiUzation,) visited Nantucket in the course of his thorough
investigations into the condition of the common schools of the state.
He found on that island the man who could construct, manage,
and teach a school, better even than he could tell how it ought to be
done. Mr. Peirce's school appeared to Mr. Mann an approach to his
own high ideal of what a seminary for the education of the young
should be. He clothed his appreciation of its excellencies in a nau-
tical figure, pertinent to the place and the community in which he
found it. " That school," said he — we quote from the memory of
another — " that school is as much superior to schools in general as a
strongly-built, well-equipped, ably-managed steamboat, propelled by

a powerful engine, within itself competent to * keep its head,' let the

Aa

418 CYRUS PEIRCE.

winds >.low and the waves roll as tliey may, is superior to a ship, that
must shift its sails to suit every breeze, and furl them when it storms,
and that is withal unseaworthy, leaking at many a seam, poorly
manned, and commanded by a captain who does not understand
navigation."

Mr. Peirce kept the Nantucket High School nearly two years. It
comprised between fifty and sixty pupils of both sexes, and of the
usual variety of ages and characters. He succeeded, however, in es-
tablishing and preserving uncommonly good order; in securing
remarkable regularity and punctuality in the attendance of his pupils ;
and induced them to be diligent and faithful in their studies, and to
make improvement in all respects greater than ever before. And yet
he struck not one blow, nor inflicted any other corporal punishment.

The friends of the new system were more than satisfied. The
opposers were silenced. It was made apparent to all, that public
schools of every grade, having boys and girls together, if well classed,
as they may be where there is a proper series, furnished with suitable
rooms, text-books and apparatus, and committed to the management
of competent teachers, maybe conducted with exemplary order, and
be led to make greater progress than common, in all the learning
taught in our schools, without any inflictions of bodily suffering, or
the stimulus of any other emulation than that which will be natur-
ally awakened, wherever numbers are brought together to pursue the
same high object. Excellence, in whatever they undertook to learn
or to do, excellence was always kept before Mr. Peirce's pupils, as
the mark to which they should aspire, — excellence, rather than to ex-
cel a competitor. Thoroughness, exactness, fidelity in all things,
intelligence in every exercise, and an exalted tone of moral sentiments,
were the admirable characteristics acknowledged to be conspicuous in
Mr. Peirce's school.

These were precisely the excellencies which ought to be conspicuous
in every school ; but they must be extant in the teacher, or they can
not be infused into pupils. Therefore, to unfold these excellencies, if
possible, in all who would be teachers of the young, had come to be
regarded by the enlightened friends of education as the greatest
desideratum ; and, to keep the schools out of the hands of those who
were devoid of these excellencies was felt to be a necessary precaution.
Mr. Mann and his co-laborers had been brought to the conclusion, that
seminaries, especially for the training of teachers, must be established.
And they were confident that Mr. Peirce was the man who could
show what a normal school should be.

When, therefore, the munificence of the late Hon. Edmund Dwight

CYRUS PEIRCE. ^-^q

induced the legislature of Massacliusetts to make tlie needful appro-
priation, and so soon as a local habitation had been provided, the
Board of Education unanimously elected Mr. Peircc to commence the
enterprise.

It was with no little difficulty that the people of Nantucket could
be persuaded to relinquish him ; nor was it easy for him to persuade
himself to leave his happy home in their midst, where he was so
much respected and loved ; and where he was so well established at
the head of a system of schools, which he had mainly devised, and
which was working so satisfactorily under him. But no one was more
fully aware of the defects of common schools than he. No one ap-
preciated more profoundly the necessity of the especial preparation
of teachers for their work. He was not the man who would refuse,
from any personal considerations, what it was made to appear his
duty to undertake for the benefit of the rising generations. He had
admired, from the beginning, Horace Mann's generous consecration
of himself to the improvement of the common schools. He discerned
the wisdom of his plans, and the unsparing pains he took to carry
them into operation. And, when that enlightened, devoted friend of
humanity besought his help, with the earnest assurance that he knew
no other man to whom he could so confidently intrust the com-
mencement of that part of his improved system of schools, on which
the success of the whole depended, Mr. Peirce could not withhold
himself. He accepted the appointment, saying, " I had rather die
than fail in the undertaking."

On the 3d of July, 1839, he entered upon his labors at Lexington,
as principal of the first Normal School on this continent.

What a Normal School was to be, most persons could not divine.
Conjectures were various; some of them ludicrous. Then, a few
teachers seemed to feel that the rearing of such an institution was a
derogatory imputation upon their whole fraternity. Some academies
looked with an evil eye upon a seminary, founded in part by the
Commonwealth, to do what they had hitherto assumed to be their
especial work. Moreover, the admirable qualifications of Mr. Peirce
to be a teacher of teachers were not much known off the Island of
Nantucket, excepting to the Board of Education, (itself a novelty,)
and a few zealots in the cause of reform. Not a note of congratula-
tion welcomed him to his post. The aspect all around was cold and
forbidding, except the countenance of Mr. Mann, and the few enlight-
ened friends of education who regarded his coming as the dawning
of a new day.

At the opening of the school, only three offered themselves to

420 CYRUS PEIRCE.

become his pupils. Tlie contrast between the full, flourishing establish-
ment he had just left at Nantucket, and the "beggarly account of
empty boxes," which were daily before him for the firet three months,
was very disheartening. lie could not repress the apprehension that
the Board of Education had made a fatal mistake, in intrusting the
commencement of the enterprise to one so little known as himself
throughout the Commonwealth ; and he feared that Normal Schools
would die at their birth, for want of something to live on. However,
he had put his hand to the plough, and of course the furrow must be
driven through, aye, and the whole field turned over, before he would
relinquish his effort. He set about his work, as one determined to " do
with his might what his hand found to do." He soon made his three
pupils conscious that there was more to be known about even the
primary branches of education than they had dreampt of; and better
methods of teaching reading, spelling, grammar, arithmetic and
geography, than were practised in the schools. Their reports of the
searching thoroughness and other excellent peculiarities of the Normal
Teacher attracted others to him. The number of his pupils steadily
increased from term to term, until, at the expiration of his first three
years of service, there were forty-two. In the course of those years,
more than fifty went out from under his training, to teach, with certifi-
cates of his approbation; and the obvious improvement in the'r
methods of governing children, and giving them instruction, demon-
strated the utility of Normal Schools. His immediate successor, in
1842, in order to satisfy himself and the public on this point, sent a
circular letter to every district in the Commonwealth, where a pupil
of Mr. Peirce's was known to have been employed as an instructor,
making the inquiries adapted to elicit the desired information. In
every case, but one or two, testimonials were returned, setting forth the
marked superiority of teachers from the Normal School. It became
then a fixed fact, that such a seminary was needful, — that it would
efiect the improvement in common schools, which was of first im-
portance— namely, the better qualification of teachers. Normal
Schools have been multiplied ; their usefulness is no longer questioned ;
ample provisions are made for their support ; they have come to be
regarded as an essential part of the improved system of public
instruction in New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and several other
states, besides Massachusetts. Is it, then, small praise, to have it said
of any one, that we are indebted for the establishment of Normal
Schools to him, more than to any other individual ? If to Horace
Mann belongs the honor of having made the need of such institutions
so apparent, that private and public bounty was directed toward them,

CYRUS PEIRCE. 42]

it is due to Mr. Peirce to record that it was his inflexible perseverance,
which overcame the obstacles that well-nigh precluded their com-
mencement, and his admirable fidelity and skill which settled the
question of their usefulness. One of the earliest and most devoted
promoters of the educational improvements which have been intro-
duced within the last twenty years, the gentleman who fi-amed and
set in operation the excellent school system of Rhode Island, and
has done more than any body else to regenerate the school system
of Connecticut, (the editor of this Journal is the only person who
would be displeased should we name him,) the gentleman whose
knowledge of the history of this revival of education is more exten-
sive and thorough, and whose judgment of its causes and effects is
more to be relied on, than that of any other man, — hardly excepting
even Horace Mann, — that gentleman has more than once been heard
to say, — " Had it not been for Mr. Cyrus Peirce, I consider that the
cause of Normal Schools would have failed, or have been postponed
for an indefinite period."

Let it, then, be added here, the selection of Mr. Peirce to commence
this signal improvement, was not a matter of mere accident, or good
fortune. It was the result of Mr. ]\Iann's thorough appreciation of
the nature of the undertaking, and profound insight into the qualifica-
tions of the one who should be trusted to commence it. He might
have selected one of many gifted teachers, more widely known, and
of more popular, attractive mien, — -one who would, at the outset, have
gathered about him a host of pupils. He might have found a few
who could have taught some things, perhaps, better than Mr. Peirce.
But there was no other man, within the sphere of his careful search,
who combined so many of the qualities demanded, so many of the
elements of certain success. If we should name another as compara-
ble to him, it would be the late lamented David P. Page, the first
principal of the New York Normal School, who excelled Mr. Peirce
in popular gifts, and almost equaled him in all the fundamental
requisites. Still, the preference was wisely given.

Mr. Peirce's profound reverence for truth is the basis of his charac-
ter as a man and a teacher, — truth in every thing, — the whole truth,
the exact truth. Never have we known another so scrupulous. His
reverence for truth was ever active, ever working in him, and renewing
itself, day by day, in some higher manifestation, or some deeper ex-
pression. A.lthough he frequently, if not every day, closed his school
with the admonition, — " my pupils, Jive to the truth," — yet it never
seemed like a vain repetition ; it always appeared to come fresh from
his heart, as if it were a new inspiration of his longing for them to
become all that God had made them capable of being.

422 CYRUS PEIRCE.

To pupils of a facile, temporizing, slipshod disposition, Mr. Peirce
was tedious, because of his particularity. Not partly, almost, very
nearly right, would ever satisfy him. Each answer that was given
him to every question that he put, must be wholly, exactly correct ,
so correct as to make it self-evident that the one who gave it fully
appreciated the truth expressed by the words he used ; and used such
words as made the truth luminous to others, who were capable of re-
ceiving it. This intellectual and moral conscientiousness soon capti-
vated those of a kindred spirit, and, in due time, impressed the most
heedless as an admirable, a divine characteristic. Surely it is so. It
can not be too conspicuous in those, to whom may be intrusted the
forming of the mental and moral habits of the young. For the
divergence of " almost right," from " exactly right," may, in the course
of time, be greater than any, except the Infinite mind, can estimate.

Attention to one thing at a time, and the thorough, complete
understanding of every thing antecedent and preliminary, before at-
tempting to advance in any branch of science, were principles on
which Mr. Peirce insisted, until it was found to be futile to attempt
to get forward under his tuition, if they were slighted. All shamming
was detected by him ; and skimming the surface of any subject made
to appear silly. It was settled that nothing could be well taught to
another, unless the teacher thorougly comprehended what he set
about to communicate. Therefore, much of the time of his pupils in
the Normal School was devoted to the careful study of each branch
of learning expected to be taught in the primary and grammar
schools, — the primary being always accounted by him prior in im-
portance, as well as in time. On nothing, except only moral culture,
did Mr. Peirce dwell with more particularity, than on the first elements
of Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. He insisted that whenever a
child has been put in full possession of these, he will be able to attain
any degree of proficiency in each of the branches, and their depend-
dents, that he may take pains to seek. But, if these elementary
parts have not been thoroughly learnt by any one, imperfection will,
at some time, somewhere, show itself, and embarrass subsequent
attempts at learning, with or without an instructor.

Next to thinking and expressing one's own thoughts, the most
wonderful power given to man is that by which we may receive from
the written or the printed page, and communicate audibly, the
thoughts of another. Yet this power is in most cases very imperfect-
ly unfolded, and very shabbily exercised. The number of good
readers, within any one's acquaintance, mny always be counted in a
trice.

CYRUS PEIRCE. 423

" To hear some parsons, how they preach,
How they run o'er all parts of speech,
And neither rise a note, nor sink ;
Our learned Bishops, one would think.
Had taken school-boys from the rod
To make embassadors to God."

Upon nothing, excepting moral character, did Mr. Peirce bestow so
much pains as upon the Art of Reading. And he was singularly suc-
cessful in teaching it — especially the reading of our Sacred Scriptures.
Yet was he lacking in what would seem to be the sine qua non of a
fine reader, namely, a clear, sonorous voice. His deficiency in this
respect, however, was triumphed over by the force of his intellect,
and the depth of his emotional nature. It was forgotten, as one
listened to his luminous, forcible reading of choice passages from the
Bible, or other favorite books. His hearers caught the inspiration of
his soul ; so that, never has reading seemed to us so high an intel-
lectual effort and treat, as when we have been listening to some of
his pupils.

His method of teaching reading, from the beginning, is set forth in
his lecture before the American Institute of Instruction, in 1844,
which may be found in the volume published by the Institiute that
year. In order to save children from acquiring a monotonous, or
drawling, or nasal tone, which it is so difficult afterward to con-ect, as
well as to make reading, from the first, a more intelligible, intelligent,
and agreeable exercise, Mr. Peirce, in that lecture, recommends, what
he had tried with excellent success in his Model School, beginning
with loords rather than letters. We fear this method has not been
faithfully tried in our schools generally ; and we would take this occa-
sion to commend it again to all who are about to commence teaching
any children to read, at home, or in the primary schools. Try this
method, as it is explained in the lecture just referred to. We com-
mend it, not only on the high authority of Mr. Peirce, but on our
own observation of its much better results.

In Arithmetic, Mr. Peirce was among the first to welcome and
apply Mr. W. Colburn's method of teaching the relations and powers
of numbers, — a method which can never be superseded, and the
application of which has never been surpassed, if equaled, by any sub-
sequent authors, excepting those who have built on his foundation.
Mr. Colburn's method, however, may be abused, as it has been, by
teachers who have not thoroughly understood it, or have been care •
less in applying it. Mr. Peirce taught his pupils in tlie Normal
School how to teach Arithmetic exactly in the manner indicated by

424 CYRUS PEIRCE.

Mr. Colburn. In this he preceded, though he never surpassed Mr.
Tillinghast ; and we take this occasion to add, neither of them quite
equaled Miss Caroline Tilden, the favorite pupil of the one, and one
of the favorite assistants of the other.

But we have not here room to specify any further. In every de-
partment of teaching, Mr. Peirce was, and taught his pupils to be,
thorough, intelligent, and intelligible. He impressed it, in the first
place, upon all whom he was preparing for the work, that, whatsoever
they would communicate to others, they must first themselves thor-
oughly understand. The text-book, however excellent, may be of
little avail to his class, unless the teacher knows more than the mere
words of that book. And, secondly, the teacher can not help his
pupils to acquire any part of any science, excepting so far as he may
lead them clearly to comprehend it. Mr. Peirce continually detected
and repudiated the substitution of memory for understanding ; and
earnestly enjoined it upon his pupils to do likewise, when they should
become teachers.

As soon as practicable, after opening the Normal School at Lexing-
ton, Mr. Peirce instituted the Model Department, — a school composed
of the children of the neighborhood, just such as would be found in
most of our country district schools. In that he led his normal
pupils, seriatim, by turns, to apply and test for themselves, the
correctness, the excellence of the pi-inciples of teaching, which he
■was laboring to instil into them. This was the most peculiar part of
the institution. In the management of it, he evinced great adroitness
as well as indomitable perseverance, and untiring patience. In that
Model Department, the future teachers, under his supervision, practised
the best methods of governing and instructing children, so that each
one, when she left the Normal School, carried with her some experience
in the conduct of a common school.

Thus Mr. Peirce wrought three years at Lexington, performing an
amount of labor, which, should we give it in detail, it might lessen, in
the estimation of our readers, our credibility as a biographer. He
fully justified the confidence which Mr. Mann and the Board of Educa-
tion had reposed in him. And he gained continually the reverence and
the love of his successive pupils. Strict as he was, uncompromising,
exacting as he was, he was yet so just, so true, so faithful in his atten-
tions to each individual, — so kind and sympathizing to all, even the
least successful and most unlovely, — that he conciliated the hearts of
all, not wholly excepting even the very few who were un tractable in
his hands. It was so obvious that he desired their highest good, so
obvious that he was truly paternal in his regard for their personal

CYRUS PEIRCE. 425

welfare and future usefulness, that ^^ Father Feirce^^ soon came to be
the title given him with one accord.

His labors and cares were too much even for his powers of attention
and endurance. They were such, that he seldom allowed himself
more than four hours for sleep, out of each twenty-four. He slighted
nothing. Not the least thing was out of order, that he was respon-
sible for. He gave personal attention to every exercise of each one
of his pupils — especial consideration to the case of every one who
needed. He kept a watchful eye upon the deportment of all, out of
school as well as in, and had a care for the comfort and especially for
the health of all. It was more than he could longer endure.

In 1842, therefore, at the end of three years, he was obliged to re-
sign his charge. "It was," we quote from the Sixth Annual Report
of the Board of Education, " the ardent desire of the Board to
secure the further services of that gentleman in a place, which he
has filled with such honor to himself and such usefulness to the com-
munity ; but, owing to the state of his health and to other circum-
stances, he felt obliged to tender his resignation, which the Board most
reluctantly accepted. Never, perhaps, have greater assiduity and
fidelity distinguished and rewarded, the labors of any instructor. Mr.
Peirce has retired from the employment of teaching ; but the models
of instruction which he has left, and his power of exciting an enthu-
siasm in the noble cause of education, will long remain as a blessing
to the young."

He left Lexington, regretted by all, and returned once more to his
loved home on the Island of Nantucket, under the painful apprehen-
sion that his labors as a teacher were ended, and that the rest of his
life must be spent as an invalid. But the entire repose of body and
mind which he was there permitted to enjoy, recruited him more and
much sooner than was expected; and, at the end of two years, he
was ready to engage again in the work of teaching.

His successor, at Lexington, gladly resigned the place in his favor.
He was at once reelected by a unanimous vote of the Board of Educa-
tion, and resumed the charge of the Normal School in August, 1844; —
not, however, in Lexington. The number of pupils had so greatly
increased that much larger accommodations were needed than could be
furnished in Lexington. A building of suitable dimensions, but erected
for another purpose, had just then been purchased in West Newton.
All arrangements necessary for the school were to be made in it.
The devising and superintending of these devolved upon Mr. Peirce ;
and he soon showed, so for as the limits within which he was required
to work would permit, that he knew how a school-room ought to be

426 CYRUS PEIRCE.

constructed, arranged, furnished, warmed and ventilated, as well as
how those who should be gathered into it, ought to be instructed.
Every one who came to view the work, when completed, acknowledged
that he had made the best possible use of the premises and the funds,
that had been put at his disposal.

In that somewhat new and much enlarged sphere, he labored yet
five years more, with his wonted fidelity, skill and success. He had
now very able assistants, those on whose faithftilness as well as ability,
he could implicitly rely. Yet was his attention unremitted. He was
mindful of every thing. His pupils were not regarded merely as
component parts of their several classes. Each of them was an indi-
vidual. Each might have peculiar difficulties to contend with, peculiar
obstacles to success. He, therefore, sought to know each one person-
ally, that he might render the aid, and suggest the discipline applica-
ble to each. True, as he never spared himself, so he rigidly exacted of
his pupils all that he knew them to be able to perform. Yet, he
sympathized with every one of them. He was as a father to them
all. The discovery of any serious faults in any of them only made
him more solicitous for their improvement, more tender in his manner;
although never indulgent^ never remitting what it was right to require.

It was during this second connexion with the Normal School that
Mr. Pierce laid the foundation of a disease that will probably cause
him much discomfort, it may be severe suffering, so long as he abides
in the body.

It was his unvarying determination to have every thing pertaining
to the school-house so carefully arranged, and in such perfect order
betimes, that not one minute of the hours appropriated to school
exercises should be lost. All his pupils were females. He, therefore,
could not call upon them for assistance in some of the "chores" that
needed to be done every day and night, especially in the winter season.
Neither could he hire the service of any man, who would never fail
to do every thing that needed to be done, at the right time, and
in the best manner. Furthermore, he was unwilling to increase the
expenses of his pupils, many of whom were poor, by swelling the
amount of incidental charges, which devolved upon them. During
each of the winters at West Newton, as he used to do while at Lex-
ington, when the night was very cold, threatening an unusually severe
morning, he would go, at eleven or twelve o'clock, and replenish the
furnace, to insure a comfortable room at the opening of the school.
He would always go, at 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning, attend to the
fires, sweep off the snow from the steps, shovel paths around the house,
bring water enough from a neighboring well to supply the demands

CYRUS PEIRCE. 427

of the day, and tlien, returning Lome, would devote liimself to study
until school time, carefully preparing himself upon every lesson which
he was about to teach. It may seem to some of our readers that we
are condescending too much in making mention of such matters ; but,
it is in faithful attention to small matters that the depth and strength
of a man's principles are evinced.* And the feet that it was these
things which brought upon him a malady that will be life-long, gives
them no little importance in the memoir of this excellent man.

In the summer of 1849, he was compelled again to resign the
charge of the Normal School, which might almost be called a thing
of his own creation ; to the welfare of which every power of his soul
and of his body had been consecrated for eight years. And now he
must leave it, with the sad consciousness that health and strength
were so seriously impaired that he was no longer able, and never
again would be able, to discharge, as he had been wont to do, the
duties of the place he had filled so long. Yes, literally filled. No
one but himself could recount any of Father Peirce's shortcomings.
His measure of performance had run over rather than come short. That
was a day of sore trial to his feelings, and the feelings of the many
who revered and loved him. Yet was it an occasion of joy, of gener-
ous exultation. He was to receive an honorable discharge from an
arduous post, the duties of which had been excellently well fulfilled.

The highest commendations of his fidelity and success were be-
stowed by the Board of Education and others, who had been most
cognizant of his labors. His pupils, in great numbers, gathered about
him, to testify their respect and aftection. The Normal School-rooms,
which he had constructed, and had permeated with his earnest, devoted
spirit, every day of every term for five years, were tastefully and perti-
nently decorated ; and there, in the presence of as many of his normal
children, and tried friends, and generous patrons of the institution, as
the rooms would admit, he was addressed by the Hon. Horace Mann,
who had selected him for that high place, had persuaded him to ac-
cept it, and who could, more justly than any body else, appreciate the
exceeding value of his services. It was a valedictory honorable alike
to him who gave and him who received it.

A purse, containing about five hundred dollars, contributed by his
pupils and other friends, was then presented, to induce and enable
him to acce])t the appointment, tendered to him by the American
Peace Society, to go as one of their representatives to the World's
Peace Congress, to be held shortly in the city of Paris.

* Mr. Peirce required nothing of liis pupils, tliat lie did not himself practise. During the
fifly years of his school-keeping, he never absented himself in a single instance for the sake
of any recreation. And he was tardy only twice.

428 CYRUS PEIRCE.

This was almost the only recreation he had allowed himself to think
of taking since he left college, in 1810.

He went to Europe in company with a long-tried friend, — one of the
same ripe age with himself, of similar tastes and character, — the Rev. Dr.
Joseph Allen, of Northborough, who, like himself, had well-earned a
respite from care and toil. Both of them were disciples of the vener-
able Worcester, the Apostle of Peace, and had, for many years, incul-
cated and practised the principles of the Gospel, which that holy man
labored to redeem from neglect. It was, therefore, with no common
interest that they went to a convention of persons, called from all
parts of the world, to meet in the metropolis of the most belligerent
nation of modern Europe. The meeting convened on the 22d day of
August, 1849. There they saw, heard and communed with many of
the pure. Christian men of Christendom, who, in the midst of the clash
of armies, the shouts of victory, the lamentations of defeat, had long
seen and deplored the folly as well as the wickedness of war, and had
been earnestly inquiring for some other modes of adjusting the differ-
ences which must needs arise between nations, similar to those that
are relied upon in cases that arise between individuals.

They afterward spent some months, traveling in England and on
the Continent, enjoying all the gratification that the time and their
opportunities allowed them, and their abundant stores of historical and
classical knowledge qualified them to partake of.

In a letter lately received from Dr. Allen, he says of Mr. Peirco :

I never fully appreciated his merits, until he became connected with the Nor-
mal School. There, as all know, he was not only principal but princeps. There
he exhibited the abundant fruits of his patient, faithful labors, continued, without
intermission, through the years of his youth and manhood ; and there he gained a
name that will live and be ])onored by future generations. « * * It was my
good fortune to be his fellow-traveler in a tour through some parts of England and
the Continent, in the summer of 1849. We went in the same packet, rode in the
same cars or carriages, lodged at the same inns. This close and long-continued
intercourse served to cement our friendship, and greatly to increase my high
respect for him as a scholar, and a man of integrity, honor and purity, — an
Israelite, indeed, in whom there is no guile.

Soon after his return from Europe, in 1850, partly because of his
pecuniary need, but mainly because of his love of teacliing, he became
an assistant in the excellent school opened by Mr. Nathaniel T. Allen,
in the premises lately of the Normal School, which was removed to
Framingham ; and there, like the Hon. John Q. Adams in Congress,
he has for several years been discharging, with exemplary fidelity, the
duties of a subordinate, in the very place whore he liad so long presided.

If there be one excellence which, more than another, has character-
ized the schools kept by Mr. Peirce, from the beginning of his long
career, it is the especial attention he has paid to the moral culture of

CYRUS PEIRCE. 429

his pupils. He early perceived that the development of the intel-
lectual forces of the children of men, and the hestowment upon them
of large stores of literary and scientific knowledge, without a corres-
ponding unfolding of their moral natures, fitted and often would rather
dispose them to vice more than to virtue. It has long been obvious
that " knowledge is power " for evil as well as for good. Mr. Peirco
was fully persuaded that those instructors were conferring a question-
able benefit upon society, if nothing worse, who were sending out
children, enabled to run well on any of the various courses which
might be thrown open to their political ambition, their love of money,
or desire for social distinction, unless they have taken all necessary
pains to fortify them against temptation, by awakening in their hearts a
profound reverence for all the laws of God, and an unfeigned, impartial
respect for the rights and feelings of their fellow-men.

His views on this fundamentally important matter were fully exhib-
ited in a carefully prepared Essay on " Crime, its cause and cure,'*
which he presented incognito to the committee of the American
Institute of Instruction on Prize Essa}"s, in 1853. Each member of
that committee by himself examined it, and formed his decision with-
out conference with the other members. They all concurred in
awarding to his essay the premium offered. And yet, when the essay
came to be read before the Institute at New Haven, it was misunder-
stood, misrepresented, vehemently opposed, and finally forbidden a
place among the publications of the Institute. Seldom has there
been such an instance of hot haste in a deliberative assembly of wise
and good men. The essay was soon after published, just as it had
been read to the Institute. It vindicates itself against the decision
of that body. And it has also the endorsement of such men as George
B. Emerson and Solomon Adams. The essay does not, as was
alledged, charge upon the schools of New England that they teach im-
morality, or that they are the productive cause of the increase of crime
among us. It only asserts and maintains what was seen to be true by
the most careful observers, and has since become more and more
apparent to all who take any notice, — 1st, that merely intellectual
education is no security against immorality or crime ; 2d, that facts
show that crime may increase at the same time with increased atten-
tion to education, — the common education of the school ; — that this is
the case, to some extent, in our own New England ; and for the
reason, in part, that the common education of our schools has in it
too little of the moral element. We cultivate the head more than
the heart. And 3d, that there is, hence, a call upon teachers, commit-
tees, parents, and all friends of true education, to make a larger outlay

430 CYRUS PEIRCE.

for moral instruction, assigning to it in our schools the high place its
importance demands. No propositions respecting our schools could
have been announced, that were then, and are now, more easily proved
than these. Could Mr. Peirce's essay be read again to the Institute, at
this day, it would meet with a very different reception. The eyes of
many more men, here and in Europe, have opened since 1853, to dis-
cern what he then saw. While we are writing these pages, a grave
amount of testiraony, exactly to the point in question, is brought to
us in a contemporary journal. The Religious Magazine, as follows :

Education in New England has not been receding tliese dozen years. Schools
have been multiplied ; universities have been enlarged 5 the standard of scholar-
ship has been raised. Yet the grosser kinds of iniquity have been spreading too.
A careful examination of the records of penitentiaries and criminal dockets, has
shown that this growth of lawlessness is just as groat, in proportion, among those
classes that instruction reaches, as with the abject and illiterate. Joseph Fletcher,
one of Her Majesty's Inspectors of Schools, in a careful work on the moral statis-
tics of England and Wales, shows that crime is not according to ignorance.
Similar returns from France indicate, in fact, that the most highly educated dis-
tricts are the most criminal districts. A series of able articles in the " Morning
Chronicle," for 1849 and 1850, go to establish the same strange and almost para-
doxical conclusion respecting different parts of Great Britain. The testimony
of many chaplains of prisons is brought to confirm it. The ingenious treatise of
Herbert Spencer, entitled " Social Statistics," adduces much parallel evidence.
There may be some element in such data to modify an inference of the full
breadth of the apparent facts. Yet is it a most impressive result. Ought it not to
satisfy us that mental cultivation and moral principle are two things, — meant, no
doubt to be harmonized and to help each other, but easily separated, and even
made perversely hostile ?

Horace Mann took the true ground, in his late address at Antioch
College, in maintaining that colleges ought to be held responsible for
the moral as well as the intellectual character of its graduates ; and
that diplomas should either contain, or be accompanied with, a dis-
criminating certificate of moral character.

We think the American Institute of Instruction owe it to them-
selves, and to their committee on prizes, not less than to Mr. Peirce,
to reconsider their action in 1853 respecting his essay, and to give it
the honorable place among their publications to which it is entitled.

In accordance with the conviction declared in that essay, and ani-
mated by the spirit which breathes through it, Mr. Peirce, from the
first, has given his chief attention to the moral conduct and principles
of his pupils. No violation of the truth, in act or word, no obliquity
of language, or feeling, or motive, would he pass lightly over. Any
thins: of the kind revealed to him that there was unsoundness at the
very basis of his pupil's character ; and he had no heart, until that
should be remedied, to go on building upon a foundation that ho
knew might at any time give way, and leave the superstructure a
moral ruin, — all the more unsightly and pitiful if decorated with the

CYRUS PEIRCE.

431

ornaments which learning, genius and taste may have entwined
around the fallen columns.

Of course, it was in the preparation and recitation of their lessons,
for the most part, that he was led to the discovery of his pupil's faults,
or weaknesses, — was brought into conflict with the evil that was
in them. He never punished, he never reproved a pupil for failing to
do what he was unable to do ; but only for negligence, for inattention,
for not having made the effort he was bound to make. This he
justly accounted an immoraHty. It was unfaithfulness to one's self ;
a fraud upon the teacher ; ingratitude to one's parents ; impiety
toward God. No one could have been more tender, sympathizing,
than Mr. Peirce always was, to one in difficulty. He would explain
what was obscure. He would remove all obstacles out of his way,
excepting that which the pupil alone could remove, — the obstacle in
his own will, — his indisposition to make the needful effort. That the
pupil must make himself. Ancf Mr. Peirce never released him;
never qualified a demand that it was reasonable to enforce.

Any artifices at the time of recitation, any promptings by word
or sign, any sly lookings to discover what ought to have been learnt
before, if detected, (as they were very apt to be by his vigilant eye
or ear,) were sure to bring upon the culprits severe reprimands, it
may have been some more enduring punishments. He could not
look upon such as light offences, — merely roguish tricks, pardonable in
thoughtless boys. They were frauds — attempts to make things and
persons appear to be what they were not. And, if boys and girls did
not appreciate the iniquity of such things, it ought all the more care-
fully to be exposed to them, and impressed upon them.

So, too, unnecessary tardiness and absence from school, playing or
whispering during the hours assigned to study, were denounced and
treated as grave offences against the little community, (which every
school is,) no less than against one's self. Each and all of these things
were reproved and punished, not so much because they were contrary
to the laws which he had enacted, as because they were wrong in
themselves, contrary to the eternal laws of right. He was careful to
make the morality of all his requirements apparent to his pupils.
His was not an arbitrary government. His laws were not matters of
his own invention. They were the principles of righteousness applied
to the conduct of children.

We have already stated that, at the outset of his career as a teacher,
Mr. Peirce resorted to the then common expedients for insuring order,
obedience, and attention to study ; to wit, corporal punishments,
appeals to emulation, offers of premiums. By these he did, for the

482 CYRUS PEIRCE.

most part, obtain good recitations. He kept what was accounted a
good school. He got to himself a high reputation. He could always
have as many pupils as he saw fit to receive. For, behind all these
things, there were accuracy, thoroughness, untiring assiduity, and im-
partial fidelity. It would seem, too, from the letters we have received,
that, with the exception of the few very perverse, ill-disposed ones, he
was generally beloved as well as respected by his pupils. They were
all satisfied that he desired to promote their highest welfare ; and
that he was able as well as willing to teach them all they were willing
or able to learn. Goldsmith's description of a country schoolmaster,
might be taken as quite a correct likeness of him in that day, and of
the regard in which he was held by the parents and their children.

But it was not long before he came to distrust the common
appliances, and, at last, long ago, utterly to abandon and discounte-
nance the use of them. He has been so successful in the manage-
ment of his schools for the last twenty years, without corporal pun-
ishments, premiums, or artificial emulations, and withal has been
so prominent an advocate of the new doctrine of school government,
that it may be instructive, as well as interesting to our readers, to bo
informed of the process of the change, which took place in him, and
the reasons for that change.

Our account will be taken mainly from a letter, which he wrote to

a very particular friend, — wrote without the expectation that any

part of it would be given to the public. It will speak for itself. It

will call forth responses from the hearts of many, who have had, or

may have, much experience in school-keeping.

Tlie change was gradual, the work of time, and arose from various considera-
tions. 1st. I could not, at least I did not, always administer corporal punishment,
without awakening, or yielding to emotions of a doubtful character, I began to
suspect that the effect upon myself was not good ; and I could see that it often
shocked, disturbed, but did not exalt the moral sentiment of the school. In a word,
to both parties, it seemed to me, to work spiritual death rather than life. 2d.
Often, after having inflicted it, I was visited with very troublesome doubts ; such
as, that possibly I had been too severe, even where I had no doubt that the
offender deserved some chastisement ; sometimes with a query, whether I could
not have gotten along quite as well without any blows at all. -This last query
was pretty apt to arise the next day, after all the excitement of the occasion had
subsided.' 3d. Then again I was often troubled with the thought, that possibly I had
not made sufficient allowance for the circumstances, and considerations, which
pleaded in behalf of the culprit, such as natural temperament, inherited disposi-
tion, his previous training, surrounding influences, and peculiar temptations. 4th.
Moreover, when I witnessed the blessed, the heavenly effects of forgiveness, and
encouragement, I would almost resolve forthwith to put away the ferule and strap,
and rely on moral suasion alone. 5th. As I lived longer, and observed, and
experienced more, if I grew no wiser in other respects, I did in the knowledge of
myself. I saw more of my own imperfections and faults, and self-conviction made
me more compassionate and forgiving toward others. In fine, I came to the belief,
that the natural laxcs and their penalties, to which all men, and the children of
men, alike, are subject, from the beginning of their existence, were founded in love.

CYRUS PEIRCE. 433

as well as wisdom ; yea, that our sufferings, (the consequences of transgression,)
were, equally witli our enjoyments, evidences of the wisdom and benevolence of
tho Heavenly Father. I thought, too, that I could discern a (connexion between
the transgression committed and the penalty endured, — an adaptation of the one
to the other, in the divine discipline, the like of which I could not see in my own
artificial inflictions. The punishments I was wont to apply, began to seem to
me harsh, far-fetched, arbitrary, having no relation to the offences committed.
And ought we not, said I to myself, in our discipline of children, to strive to imitate,
asclosely as possible, the Divine administration ? On philosophical principles, too,
it seemed to me, the educator of the young could not be justified, in appealing to
fear and force. Hope is a higher, nobler principle than fear. Hope, cheers,
quickens, awakens aspiration, excites to effort and sustains it. Fear addresses
itself to selfishness 5 depresses and debases the subject of it. JNIoreover, it seemed
to me, as the Creator had adapted the human mind to seek, apprehend and enjoy
the truth, that, whenever truth was rightly presented, it would be apprehended,
embraced, enjoyed, as naturally as the stomach receives, and relishes its appro-
priate food, without the extraneous and ill-adapted stimulus of AZoios. He, whose
inspiration gave understanding to man, did not so fashion it as to render blows
necessary to enable it to receive and appreciate knowledge. I came to see less
and less clearly the loving kindness, or wisdom of such appliances.

God, creation, man, human relations, indeed all things began to put on a new
and more beautiful aspect. Under the rule and quickening influence of love,
the school-room wore a new and brighter face, — brighter prospectively, when I .
entered it in the morning ; brighter retrospectively, when I left it at night.

Tho above, I trust, will serve to hint to you the leading considerations that
wrought with me a change of views and of practice, in regard to the whole sub-
ject of school discipline ; in regard to the means and motives to be resorted to, in
the great work of education. The persons chiefly instrumental in bringing about
this change in me, quite unconsciously it may have been to themselves, were the
Rev. Mr. Mottey, late of Lynnfield, Mass. ; the Rev. Dr. Damon, late of West
Cambridge, and Lucretia Mott. The conversations of each of these excellent per-
sons, helped to bring me to the result I have attempted to describe. I think it
was after listening to a conversation from Mrs. Mott, at Nantucket, in 1827, that
I definitely formed the resolution to attempt thenceforward to keep school without
the intervention, (for I can not say aid,) of blows.

In the same coranHinication, of which the foregoing is an abstract,
Mr. Peirce, says : — " The book to which, after the Bible, I owe most,
is that incomparable work -of George Combe, * On the Constitution of
Man."* It was to me a most suggestive book ; and I regard it as the
best treatise on education, and the philosophy of man, which I have
ever met with."

Whatever may have been his methods of teaching and governing,
Mr. Pierce, from the beginning to the end of his career, has made the
impression upon his pupils, that he was able to give them all tho
instruction they were disposed or able to receive ; and that it was
his unfeigned desire, and constant endeavor, to lead them to become
truly wise, and truly (;/ood.

The highest tribute that could be paid to his excellence, as a man
and a teacher, would be a compendium of the very numerous testi-
monials which lie before us, from his earliest and his latest pupils.
We have already given several from those of the former class. A few
from the latter must suffice, and will appropriately close our memoir.

One, who was a member of his first class at Lexington, in 1839 and

1840, writes thus : " I soon learnt to respect him, for his :intiring

Bb ^

434 CYRUS PEIRCE.

watchful noss, his uncorapromising integrity, and Lis unceasing faith-
fulness— ' instant in season and out of season.' To these I can bear a
most grateful testimony."

Another, who was one of his pupils at West Newton, in 1849, says :
" As an earnest, thorough, and eftective teacher, I beheve him to be
unequaled. Endeavoring, as he mainly did, to rear the education of
his pupils upon a true, solid basis, he dwelt especially upon the ele-
ments of every thing to be taught ; aiming constantly to give that
thorough, mental discipline, which puts the pupil into possession of
his powers of acquisition and preservation. But Father Peirce's
crowning excellence, was his moral power. I have never known a
person who wielded so palpable an influence in this respect. Few
natures could long withstand it. And I believe the good he has done
in this, the highest, most essential, but most neglected part of human
development, will never be duly estimated in time. * * * He
combines, it seems to me, all the gentleness, tenderness, delicacy of a
refined woman, with all the manliness of a true man."

An excellent young man, who became one of his pupils, soon after
his return from Europe, has sent us the following testimony. " To
Mr. Peirce, under God, I owe the knowledge I have acquired, and the
moral character I have formed. I went to his school with strong pro-
clivities to dissipation, and an utter distaste for study. With great
forbearance, and by skilful, as well as kind management, he has en-
abled me to overcome both. He exerts quietly a very powerful influence
over those who are .intrusted to his discipline. He at once commands
their respect ; and, in due time, engages their affection."

But we must close ; — and we close in the words of one, who w^as
first a very favorite pupil, and afterward, for yeai-s, a most devoted
and effective assistant, — Mrs. E. N. Walton :

I do not now recall any striking incidents, that would illustrate Father Peirce's
character, either as a teacher, or as the pioneer in the great struggle which has
resulted in the life and acknowledged necessity of Normal Schools. His life was
uniformly so true, and his labors so unremitted, that, as I look back upon them, I
discern no points that wore strikingly prominent above others. The impression is
rather that of a beautiful whole. * * * Every life has its lesson for human-
ity ; and this, it seems to me, is taught by his. The almost omnipotence, within
man's sphere, of a strong, inflexible will., and of patient, unremitted efforts in
striving for the truth, and obeying one's convictions of right. His energy, united
with his conscientiousness, made him what he was, and enabled him to accomplish
what he did. What he undertook, he would do. Attempting was with him, so
far as human efforts could make it, a synonym of succeeding. At first, I won-
dered at the results he accomplished 5 but an occurrence, which happened while we
were at West Newton, showed me so fully his peculiar temperament, that I never
afterward doubted that he would perform any task he set himself about. What-
ever he could do, and had shown to be practicable, he insisted should be attempted
by others. His pupils generally were real workers. They did not dare do
otherwise than strive, and keep striving to the end. They felt, when they set
about teaching, that there must be no failure 5 the whole normal enterprise rested,

CYRUS PEIRCE.

435

for the time boinf^, upon their shoulders, and they must bear it, though they were
crushed beneath it.

His power of example was immense. Those pupils, upon whom his seal is
deepest set, are remarkable for their energy, their faithfulness, their zeal and their
attention to the little things.

" Learn first that which comes first." " Attend to one ihlnc: at a time." " Do
thoroughly what you attempt to do at all." '' Nip evil in the bud." " Be faithful
in small matters." " Be firm, and yet be mild." " Be yourselves what you would
have your pupils become." These maxims he repeated again and again to those
he was training to be teachers, in view of their prospective duties. And " Live
to the Truth," — " Live to the Truth," was so ingrafted into our normal being
that, should the mere walls of Normal Ilall be tumbled to the earth, the last sound
that would come from them, to our ears at least, would be, " Live to the Truth."

NOTE.

The following letter, addressed in 1851, by Mr. Peirce, to Hon. Henry-
Barnard, then Superintendent of Common Schools in Connecticut, em-
bodies his own views as to the aims of his labors as Principal of the Nor-
mal School at Lexington, and West Newton.

" Dear Sir: — You ask rae 'what I aimed to accomplish, and would aim to
accomplish now, with my past experience before me, in a Normal School.'

I answer briefly, that it was ray aim, and it would be my aim again, to make
better teachers, and especially, better teachers for our common schools ; so
that those primary seminaries, on which so many depend for their education,
might answer, in "a higher degree, the end of iheir institution . Yes, to make
better teachers; teachers who would understand, and do their business better;
teachers, who should know more of the nature of children, of youthful devel-
opments, more of the subjects to be taught, and more of the true methods of
leaching ; who would teach more philosophically, more in harmony with the
natural development of the young mind, with a truer regard to the order and
connection in which the different branches of knowledge should be presented to
It, and, of course, more successfully. Again, I felt that there was a call for a
truer government, a higher training and discipline, in our schools; that the ap-
peal to the rod, to a sense of shame and fear of bodily pain, so prevalent in
them, had a tendency to make children mean, secretive, and vengeful, instead
of high-minded, truthful, and generous ; and I wished to see them in the hands
of teachers, who could understand the higher and purer motives of action, as
gratitude, generous affection, sense of duty, by which children should be influ-
enced, and under which their whole character should be formed. In short, I
was desirous of putting our schools into the hands of those who would make
them places in which children could learn, not only to read, and write, and
spell, and cipher, but gain information on various other topics, (as accounts,
civil institutions, natural history, physiology, political economy, &c.) which
would be useful to them in after life, and have all their faculties, (physical,
intellectual and moral,) trained in such harmony and proportion, as would re-
sult in the highest formation of character. This is what I supposed the object
of Normal Schools to be. Such was my object.

But in accepting the charge of the first American Institution of this kind, I
did not act in the belief that there were no good teachers, or good schools
among us ; or that I was more wise, more fit to teach, than all my fellows. On
the contrary, 1 knew that there were, boih within and without Massachusetts,
excellent schools, and not a few of them, and teachers wiser than m)'self; yet
my conviction was strong, that the ratio of such schools to the whole number of
schools were small ; and that the teachers in them, for the most part, had grown
up to be what they were, from long observation, and through the discipline of
an experience painful to themselves, and more painful to their pupils.

It was my impression also, that a majority of those engaged in school-keep-
ing, taught few branches, and those imperfectly, that they possessed little fit-
ness for their business, did not understand well, either the nature of children or
the subjects they professed to teach, and had little skill in the art of teaching or
governing schools. I could not think it possible for them, therefore, to make

436 CYRUS PEIRCE.

their instructions very intelligible, interesting, or profitable to their pupils, or
present to them the motives best adapted to secure good lessons and good con-
duct, or, in a word, adopt such a course of training as would result in a sound
development of the faculties, and the sure formation of a good character. I
admitted that a skill and power to do all this might be acquired by trial, if
teachers continued in their business long enough; but while teachers were thus
learning, I was sure that pupils must be suffering. In the process of time, a
man may find out by experiment, (trial,) how to tan hides and convert them into
leather. But most likely the time would be long, and he would spoil many be-
fore he got through. It would be far better for him, we know, to get some
knowledge of Chemistry, and spend a little time in his neighbor's tannery, be-
fore he sets up for himself. In the same way, the farmer may learn what
trees, and fruits, and seeds, are best suited to particular soils, and climates, and
modes of culture, but it must be by a needless outlay of time and labor, and
the incurring of much loss. If wise, he would first learn the principles and
facts which agricultural experiments have already established, and then com-
mence operations. So the more I considered the subject, the more the convic-
tion grew upon my mind, that by a judicious course of study, and of discipline,
teachers may be prepared to enter on their work, not only with the hope, but
almost with the assurance of success. I did not then, I do not now, (at least
in the fullest extent of it,) assent to the doctrine so often expressed in one form
or another, that there are no general principles to be recognized in education ;
no general methods to be followed in the art of teaching; that all depends upon
the individual teacher; that every principle, motive and method, must owe its
power to the skill with which it is applied; that what is true, and good, and
useful in the hands of one, may be quite the reverse in the hands of another;
and of course, that every man must invent his own methods of teaching and
governing, it being impossible successfully to adopt those of another. To me
it seemed that education had claims to be regarded as a science, being based on
immutable principles, of which the practical teacher, though he may modify
them to meet the change of ever-varying circumstances, can never lose sight.

That the educator should w^atch the operations of nature, the development of
the mind, discipline those faculties whose activities first appear, and teach that
knowledge first, which the child can most easily comprehend, viz., that which
comes in-^through the senses, rather than through reason and the imagi-
nation ; that true education demands, or rather implies the training, strength-
ening, and perfecting of all the faculties by means of the especial exer-
cise of each ; that in teaching, we must begin with Avhat is simple and
known, and go on by easy steps to what is complex and unknown ; that for
true progress and lasting results, it were better for the attention to be concen-
trated on a few studies, and for a considerable time, than to be divided among
many, changing from one to another at short intervals ; that in training chil-
dren we must concede a special recognition to the principle of curiosity, a love of
knowledge, and so present truth as to keep this principle in proper action; that
the pleasure of acquiring, and the advantage of possessing knowledge, may be
made, and should be made, a sufficient stimulus to sustain wholesome exertion
without resorting to emulation, or medals, or any rewards other than those
which are the natural fruits of industry and attainment; that for securing order
and obedience, there are better ways than to depend solely or chiefly upon the
rod, or appeals to fear ; that much may be done by way of prevention of evil ;
that gentle means should always first be tried ; that undue attention is given to
intellectual training in our schools, to the neglect of physical and moral; that
the training of the faculties is more important than the communication of
knowledge ; that the discipline, the instruction of the school-room, should bet-
ter subserve the interests of real life, than it now does ; — these are some of the
principles, truths, facts, in education, susceptible, I think, of the clearest de-
monstration, and pretty generally admitted now, by all enlightened educators.

The old method of teaching Arithmetic, for instance, by taking up some
printed treatise and solving abstract questions consisting of large numbers,
working blindly by what must appear to the pupil arbitrary rules, would now
he regarded as less philosophical, less in conformity to mental development,
than the more modern way of beginning with mental Arithmetic, using practi-
cal questions, which involve small numbers, and explaining the reason of eve-
ry step as you go along.

CYRUS PEIRCE.

437

So in the study of Grammar, no Normal teacher, whether a graduate or not,
of a Normal School, would require his pupils to commit the whole text-book to
memory, before looking at the nature of words, and their application in the
structure of sentences. Almost all have found out that memorizing the Gram-
mar-book, and the exercise of parsing, do very little toward giving one a
knowledge of the English language.

Neither is it learning Geography, to read over and commit to memory, sta-
tistics of the length and breadth of countries, their boundaries, latitude and lon-
gitude, (tec, &c., without map or globe, or any visible illustration, as was once
the practice. Nor does the somewhat modern addition of maps and globes
much help the process, unless the scholar, by a previous acquaintance with ob-
jects in the outer world, has been prepared to use them. The shading for
mountains, and black lines for rivers on maps, will be of little use to a child
who has not already some idea of a mountain and a river.

And the teacher who should attempt to teach reading by requiring a child to
repeat from day to day, and from month to month, the whole alphabet, until he
is familiar with all the letters, as was the fashion in former days, would de-
serve to lose his place and be sent himself to school. Could any thing be more
injudicious 1 Is it not more in harmony with Nature's work, to begin with sim-
ple, significant words, or rather sentences, taking care always to select such as
are easy and intelligible, as well as short 1 Or, if letters be taken first, should
they not be formed into small groups, on some principle of association, and be
combined with some visible object'? '

Surely, the different methods of teaching the branches above-mentioned, are
not all equally good. Teaching is based on immutable principles, and may be
regarded as an art.

Nearly thirty years' experience in the business of teaching, I thought, had
given me some acquaintance with its true principles and processes, and I deem-
ed it no presumption to believe that I could teach them to others. This I at-
tempted to do in the Normal School at Lexington ; 1st. didactically, i. e. by-
precept, in the form of familiar conversations and lectures ; 2d. by giving every
nay, and continually, in my own manner of teaching, an exemplification of my
theory ; 3d. by requiring my pupils to teach each other, in my presence, the
things which I had taught them; and 4th. by means of the Model School,
where, under my general supervision, the Normal pupils had an opportunity,
both to prove arid to improve their skill in teaching and managing schools. At
all our recitations, (the modes of which were very various,) and in other con-
nections, there was allowed the greatest freedom of inquiry and remark, and
principles, modes, processes, every thing indeed relating to school-keeping, was
discussed. The thoughts and opinions of each one were thus made the proper-
ty of the whole, and there was infused into all hearts a deeper and deeper inter-
est in the teachers' calling. In this way the Normal School became a kind of
standing Teachers' Institute.

But for a particular account of my manner and processes at the Normal
School, allow me to refer you to a letter which I had the honor, at your request,
to address to you from Lexington, Jan. ], 1841, and which was published in
the Common School Journal, both of Connecticut and Massachusetts, (vol. 3.)

What success attended my labors, I must leave to others to say. I acknowl-
edge, it was far from being satisfactory to myself. Still the experiment con-
vinced me that Normal Schools may be made a powerful auxiliary to the cause
of education. A thorough training in them, I am persuaded, will do much to-
ward supplying the want of experience. It will make the teachers' work easier,
surer, better. I have reason to believe that Normal pupils are much indebted
for whatever of fitness they possess for teaching, to the Normal School. They
uniformly profess so to feel. I have, moreover, made diligent inquiry in regard
to their success, and it is no exaggeration to say, that it has been manifestly
great. Strong testimonials to the success of many of the early graduates of the
Lexington (now W. Newton) Normal School, were published with the 8th Re-
port of the late Secretary of the Board of Education, and may be found in the
7th vol. of the Massachusetts Common School Journal.

But it is sometimes asked, (and the inquiry deserves an answer,) Allowing
that teaching is an art, and that teachers may be trained for their business,
have we not High Schools and Academies, in which the various school branch-
es are well taught 1 May not teachers in them be prepared for their work 1

438

CYRUS PEIRCE.

Where is the need then of a distinct order of Seminaries for training teachers'?
I admit we have Academies, High Schools, and other schools, furnished with
competent teachers, in which is excellent leaching; but at the time of the es-
tablishment of the Normal Schools in Massachusetts, there was not, to my
knowledge, any first-rate institution exclusively devoted to training teachers
for our common schools; neither do I think there is now any. except the Nor-
mal Schools. And teachers can not be prepared for their work anywhere else,
so well as in seminaries exclusively devoted to this object. The art of teach-
ing must be made the great, the paramount, the only concern. It must not
come in as subservient to, or merely collateral with any thing else whatever.
And again, a Teachers' Seminary should have annexed to it, or rather as an
integral part of it, a model, or experimental school for practice.

Were 1 to be placed in a Normal School again, the only difference in my
aim would be to give more attention to the development of the faculties, to
the spirit and motives by which a teacher should be moved, 'to physical and
moral education, to the inculcation of good principles and good manners.

In conclusion, allow me to recapitulate. It was nty aim, and it would be my
aim again, in a Normal School, to raise up for our common schools especially,
a better class of teachers, — teachers who would not only teach more and better
than those already in the field, but who would govern better; teachers, who
would teach in harmony with the laws of juv^enile development, who would se-
cure diligent study and good lessons and sure progress, without a resort to emula-
tion and premiums, and good ord^r from higher motives than the fear of the rod or
bodily pain ; teachers, who could not only instruct well in the common branch-
es, as reading, writing, arithmetic, &c., but give valuable information on a va-
riety of topics, such as accounts, history, civil institutions, political economy,
and physiology; bring into action the various powers of children, and prepare
them for the duties of practical life ; teachers, whose whole influence on their
pupils, direct and indirect, should be good, tending to make them, not only good
readers, geographers, grammarians, arithmeticians, &c., but good scholars,
good children, obedient, kind, respectful, mannerly, truthful; and in due time,
virtuous, useful citizens, kind neighbors, high-minded, noble, pious men and
women. And this I attempted to do by inculcating the truth in the art of teach-
ing and governing,— the truth in all things; and by giving them a living exam-
ple of it in mv own practice."

NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST.

BY RICHARD EDWARDS.

Principal of the State Normal School at Salem, Mass.

[An Address delivered before the Annual Convention of the Graduates of the State
Normal School at Bridgewater, Mass., on the 30th of July, 1856.]

Fellow Teachers and Fellow Pupils :

We have met in social and friendly gathering for many years.
There are doubtless those here who formed a part of that small band,
with whose help, the school of which we have been pupils, was first
launched upon the voyage of its existence. Year after year, as oc-
casion would permit, they with others have come up to this, the
scene of their former labor, to feel the softening influences of early
associations upon those hearts which the business and turmoil of life
do so much to harden and deaden ; or perhaps to renew here where they
were first consecrated to a noble profession, their vows of devotion to its
trying but e.xalting and responsible duties. Some of these occasions
have been joyous. The familiar salutations of friends, from whom we
have been for a season parted, the warm grasp of the friendly hand,
the mutual recital of experiences, the sight of the well known village
and its landscapes, — these have been the most prominent circum-
stances of a convention, and have forever associated with our gather-
ings the most gladdening recollections. But all has not been joy ; —
there have been also times of sorrow. Death, that spares no band,
has not withheld his hand from ours. Again and again our ranks
have been thinned by his unerring shafts. One after another, the
young, the promising, — those to whom we looked for noble deeds in
the future, have fallen by our side, and we have mournfully betaken
us to our journey alone.

But whatever change may have met our eyes here, we always, ex-
cept on a single occcasion, until one year ago, were cheered by the
countenance, and encouraged by the words of one whom we loved as
our teacher, and venerated as a noble illustration of the Christian
man. At our last meeting, we were informed that ill health kept
him in a distant part of the State. To-day, we miss him again, and
even the faint ray of hope with which we then solaced ourselves, has
been extinguished. Our hearts are saddened by the knowledge that
he has departed from our midst, and that while we continue bound

440 NICHOLAS TILLINGHAiST.

to thjs lower world, our separation from him is final. This, indeed,
is a new experience, and one for which, notwithstanding what
we knew of the inroads of disease npon his system, we were scarcely
prepared. And even with the positive knowledge we now possess, it
is hard to realize the saddening truth. It almost seems as if a con-
vention could not be without his presence. We can scarcely con-
ceive of the scene without the central figure that was wont to give
dignity to it, and to kindle the enthusiasm of us all.

But the sad reality must be contemplated, and on the present oc-
casion it is fit that we should express for his memory, iri some suita-
ble way, the respect and affection which m'c all profoundly feel, and
to impress upon ourselves the lesson taught us by his life and his
death. And in our expressions of respect and sorrow, I am quite
sure there will be none of the cold formality which is sometimes ex-
hibited. For if there is any vice which the very remembrance of
him would rebuke in a manner more marked than another, it is the
vice of pretence, — the ostentatious profession of a sentiment which
we do not entertain. No, our grief is real ; — our tribute of respect un-
feigned. We dare not profane the memory of one so invariably loyal
to the truth and to truthfulness, witli any offering that comes not
from the heart !

Nicholas Tillinghast, the first principal of the State Normal
School at Bridgewater, was born at Taunton, Bristol County, Massa-
chusetts, on Saturday the 22d of September, 1804. He was the
second son, and seventh child, of Nicholas Tillinghast, Esq., at that
time, one of the most prominent members of the Bristol Bar. lie
early exhibited the germ of that inflexible adherence to what he con-
sidered the right, and that elevated and correct tone of moral feeling,
which, in later years, expanded into the controlling principle of his
life. Anecdotes are related of him, which show that at the tender
age of nine years, he had the same feeling of self-denying devotion
to the good of others, which marked so strongly his later life. At
the aire of sixteen, when the West Point Cadets were on their march
through the New England States, he happened to meet Miss Eliza
Townsend, the Boston poetess. This lady was so much struck by
some remark of his, indicating the possession of moral principles
nobler than are usually found in young men of that age, that she
formed for him a friendship, which terminated only with her life, and
which was exhibited even in her death. But our records of his
childhood are not very copious, nor would it seem expedient, even if
they were, to introduce here many details. From all that I can learn,

NICUOLAS TILMNGHAST.

441

it appears that in every respect, in character, in temperament, in
manner, the boy was father to the man.

At a proper age he was sent to the Bristol Academy, at Taunton,
where he pursued the studies usually attended to in those days by
lads who were to prepare for college. It had probably been the in-
tention of his father to give him a college training, but the father's
death, which occurred in April, 1818, left the family in circumstances
that induced them to relinquish this project, and the young man was
taken out of the Academy, and placed in the office of a lawyer.
Here he continued for about two years; and in June, 1820, through
the aid of Hon. Marcus Morton, at that time a member of Congress,
an appointment to a West Point cadetship was obtained for him.
Thus was the whole course of his life changed ; and instead of the
smooth and pleasant path of a New England student, he was or-
dained to enter upon the rough marches and toilsome labors incident
to a life in the United States Army. Speculation as to the degree of
usefulness he might have attained, if such change had not occured is
vain ; perhaps the wisest camiot with any confidence offer an opinion
upon the subject. For those whom it intends for high usefulness,
Providence always furnishes the necessary culture, whether they be
reared in the cot or in the palace; whether they are trained in the
cell of the student, or^amid the hardships of a frontier life. There
can be no doubt however, that the severe mental discipline of the
Military Academy, the self-reliance induced by the active duties of
the graduated officer, are, to those who possess moral stamina enough
to endure them, and make a proper use of them, excellent prepara-
tions for the business of teaching. They not only contribute mental
strength, but accustom the mind to act promptly from its own judg-
ment formed upon the spot ; and this readiness in deciding is a
valuable attainment to one whose vocation calls upon him to imme-
diate decision many times in the day, and upon very important ques^
tions, — which is in a high degree the case with the teacher.

Mr. Tillinghast's course as a cadet was in keeping with his general
character. As a scholar, he does not appear to have been brilliant,
but we doubt not, he was always rehable. It is something to say of
him, that he passed successfully the several examinations to which
every cadet is subjected. Of his own class, consisting originally of
seventy members, only thirty-one were able to come out of the ordeal
unscathed, at the end of four years. That he was among the thirty-
one, will certainly appear to his credit as a scholar, when it is remem-
bered that he was one of the twelve youngest in the class on being
admitted. But he occupied by no means a low position in the class

442 NICHOLAS TILLINGIIAST.

tlius eliminated. His number on the merit roll was thirteen, " which,"
in the lani^uage of the venerable Col. Thayer, at that time SupeHn-
tendent of the Academy, " was a highly respectable standing, con-
sidering that he was then the youngest but five in his class, and that
in scholarship, the diflference between him and most of those above
him was very slight." Those who have learned all they know of his
success as a student at West Point from his own conversation in re-
spect to it, will be surprised to find that he stood so high ; for here
as everywhere, his ow^n estimate of his labor and of its results, was
very far short of that placed upon them by others. Indeed the stand-
ing here indicated is precisely that which, from his character, we
should expect to find him occupying. It does not indicate the pos-
session of splendid and showy powers, but rather of a mind solid,
reliable, thinking more of the quality than of the quantity of its ac-
quisitions,— acquiring carefully, so that every new truth learned
should become a part of the mind itself, and be a support and strength
to it when the Academic course should close, and the special stimuli
there applied should be withdrawn.

He graduated on the first day of July, 1824, and was commissioned
as a second Lieutenant in the Seventh Regiment of Infantry. After
serving for three years on the Western frontier, he was attached to
the Mihtary Academy as an instructor in Cheiiistry, Mineralogy and
Geology ; and having performed the duties of that situation for two
years, he again joined his regiment in the West. In August, 1830,
he was reattached to the Academy as Assistant Professor of Ethics,
and continued to act in that capacity until December, 1834, when
being promoted to a captaincy, he again went to the frontiers, and
remained in command of a company in Arkansas for nearly two years.
He resigned his place in the Army in 1836.

We doubt not that Mr. Tillinghast, while an officer in the army,
discharged his duty faithfully, and to the satisfiiction of his superiors.
But his tastes and feelings were ill-adapted to that mode of life. He
found good and noble men among the officers under whom he served,
and with whom he was associated, but we we think we may say with
truth tlia^ his experience of military life deepened in his mind the
dislike for war and for all its paraphernalia. He was emphatically a
man of peace, in feeling and in principle. We refrain from attempt-
ing" to state his views on this point with any great degree of minute-
ness, for we are not aware that he ever took the pains to make them
known in detail; but that he had a strong repugnance to the
soldier's life, and also to the deciding of national differences by an
appeal to arms, — that in short, he was opposed to the whole

NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST. 443

institution of war, is a flict that will be abundantly borne out by all
who were familiar with him during the latter part of his life.
Especially was it true that he had very little respect for the holiday
parades of our " citizen soldiery." And yet, he was by no means in-
sensible to the good qualities of those engaged in the profession of
arms. He was keenly alive to that sense of honor which prevails
among army officers. He has often been heard to say, that although
he was opposed to the principle of placing a military chieftain at the
head of the nation, yet his observation had taught him that the
honorable impulses of a mihtary man are often more worthy of con-
fidence, even in that high station, than the principles, so called, of a
time-serving politician.

During his residence in the the western forests and prairies, he
suffered much from the diseases incident to those regions, — fever and
ague and other complaints; and his friends think that his physical
powers were essentially weakened during his stay in Arkansas. His
resignation was undoubtedly caused by this circumstance, joined to
the distaste for military life to which allusion has already been made.

From the time of his leaving the army until his appointment by
the Board of Education, in 1840 to take charge of the Normal School
at Bridgewater, Mr. Tillinghast was a teacher in Boston. For the
most of this time he taught a private school, fitting young men for West
Point, for engineers, &c. He was also for a short time an instructor
in the English High School at Boston, and always entertained a great
respect for Mr, Sherwin, the accomplished head of that institution.

It was while laboring in this quiet and retiring manner that he
was sought out by Hon. Horace Mann, then Secretary of the Board
of Education, and invited to accept the Principalship of the School
which it was proposed to establish at Bridgewater. After serious con-
sideration, and with great reluctance, he finally consented to accept
the post. On this occasion, as always, he distrusted himself. He
shrunk from assuming the grave responsibility belonging to the situa-
tion. To be a tifacher of teachers seemed to him a great thing, and he
did not look upon himself as fitted to accomplish great things. Verily
the history of man does occasionally furnish examples of a judg-
ment erring on the side of modesty !

In order to understand the importance of the work which Mr.
Tillinghast was called upon to do, and the consequences depending
upon it, we may find it useful to recall some facts in regard to the
establishment of the Normal Schools in Massachusetts. They were
brought into existence by the self-sacrificing efforts of a few gentle-
men, whose attachment to the cause was earnest and heartfelt. The

444 NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST.

establishment of these schools was not a measure first proposed by a
legislative committee, and put into operation wholly at the State's
expense. On the contrary, it was proposed by individuals, and for
the first three years of their existence, the State bore much less than
half the expense of suporting them. In the early part of the year
1838, Edmund Dwight, — a name that ought ever to be held in grate-
ful remembrance by all who feel an interest in the success of the
public school system of Massachusetts, — offered through the Secretary
of the Board of Education, to furnish ten thousand dollars, to be ex-
pended under the direction of the Board, in establishing seminaries
for the preparation of teachers for the public schools ; provided the
Legislature would appropriate for the same purpose an equal amount.
After some opposition, the proposition was accepted, the ten thousand
dollars were voted, and the Board was empowered to put the schools
in operation. It was decided that there should be three, — one at
Lexington, one at Barre, and one at Bridgewater. Those at Lexing-
ton and Barre went into operation in 1839, and that at Bridgewater
in 1840. The sum of money furnished in the manner just mentioned,
— twenty thousand dollars, — together with such sums as were raised
in the towns where the schools were located, added to what was fur-
nished by individual contribution, was sufficient to continue the
schools for three years. This, it was judged, would be sufficient
time for trying the experiment, — for testing the plan of training
teachers for the public schools at the public expense. At the end of
the three years, of course, the whole expense of their continuance
would come upon the State. Under these circumstances, it will be
easy to see that the duty of the teachei-s of the Normal Schools was
no sinecure. It was required of these teachers, that, with exceed-
ingly imperfect instrumentalities, they should demonstrate to the
frugal voters of the Commonwealth, the utility of a set of institutions
that were to take from the State treasury large sums for the erection
of school buildings, and ultimately, some seventeen thousand dollars
annually for their ordinary support. For feeble hurflenity this would
seem to have been task enough ; but in addition to all this, they were
compelled to encounter a fierce opposition from many teachers, who
thought their own field of labor encroached upon by the new, and
hitherto unheard of. State seminaries. Surely, under these circum-
stances, success was a great achievement, and the fact that success was
attained, speaks the praise of those earnest teachers more loudly than
any words of mine can do it. It may I know, be urged, with truth,
that the schools had good friends in the Legislature and elsewhere,
and that the Secretary of the Board was a gentleman of superior

NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST. 445

ability, extended culture, great influence, indomitable resolution, and
unflinching devotion to the cause, in which, at a great personal sacri-
fice, he had engaged. The earnest support of all these was necessary
to the succcessful establishing of these institutions. If any of them
had been wanting, the scheme must have fallen through. But every
friend of popular education has reason to be thankful, that in the
trying hour they all stood bravely at their posts; that the Secretary
had counted the cost before entering upon the war ; that members of
the Legislature, of whom one is still an honored resident of this town,
regardless of self and self-interest, gave their energies to the support of a
measure which has so abundantly improved the character of the
public schools ; that the teachers, in spite of many obstacles, such as
the brief period during which their pupils were under their instruc-
tions, the want of suitable buildings and apparatus, and the influence
of the opposition already mentioned, still persisted in their noble work,
with a faith that removed the mountains in their path, and an industry
that knew no fatigue.

But it will be especially useful for us to enquire what means our
teacher took to prepare himself for the work which he regarded as of
such importance. The school at Barre, which went into operation on
the 4th of September, 1839, had been placed under the charge of
Professor Samuel P. Newman of Bowdoin College. Mr. Tillinghast,
when he had finally concluded to accept the appointment offered him,
proceeded to Barre, and spent six months in observing the methods,
and studying the principles adopted by Prof. Newman in his school.
During this time, he prepared many manuscripts of lectures and ex-
planations for his own use in his new j)Osition. Every subject on
which he was to give instruction was carefully thought out, and the
results of' his thoughts was committed to paper for future use. This
work of six months, however, was but the beginning of what may be
called his preparatory labor. Every exercise was carefully considered
before it was to come on, — usually on the night before ; and very
frequently it happened that midnight found and left him at his labors.
And such watching was not atoned for by morning slumbers, for the
early morning was likewise devoted to duty. He was a believer in
industry, in the power of earnest work, and maintained that nothing
truly valuable can be accomplished without it. When he had thus
prepared himself, as well as the brief space of time, intervening be-
tween his appointment and the commencement of his labors would
permit, he entered upon his duties as Principal of the Normal School
at Bridgevvater, on the 9th of September, 1840.

Here and at this time, no doubt, began the great work of his life.

446 NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST.

AVhatever may have been his success in his previous employments, it
is not likely that it was such as to make him particularly eminent.
But in the Normal School, his position soon became a marked one.
Upon the public schools of the Commonwealth, he has exerted a tell-
ing influence for their elevation and improvement. This influence is
felt noi only in those schools which are under the direct charge of his
puj^ils, but also in hundreds of others, where his name was never
heard. His spirit, his views, his methods, seem to have become part
and parcel of our educational system, — they seem like the waters of
a clear stream, to impart their own purity to the wave with which
they mingle. They float about in the educational atmosphere, and
are inhaled by all who breathe it. There is no especial part of the
system which he originated ; no institution which he founded or en-
dowed, or to which he gave a name. These may be called the material
or corporeal parts of a people's educational means. But he furnished
much of what we may consider the soul, — the animating principle
that moves this otherwise dead machinery. He built no school-
houses, but he built the character of many an earnest and successful
teacher. And as the teacher is more valuable than the school-house
or school system, however valuable these may be, as the soul is nobler
than the tenement in which it dwells, — so was his life a nobler
benefaction to the cause of education, than if it had been spent in
endowing institutions or framing systems. Travel over our Common-
wealth ; visit elsewhere hundreds of school-houses of every degree of
architectural pretension, from the lowly, weather-stained cabin in field
or forest, to the costly structure that graces the attractive avenue in
the city ; — and you will find his pupils in them all, and all without
exception, ready to attribute to him the elements of their highest
success.

As a teacher, Mr. Tillinghast had many striking characteristics. In
the first place, he acquired a power over his pupils, — men and women,
— that we think is seldom attained. To mere lookers on, it seemed
like a sort of fascination, and even to the objects of it, the pupils
themselves, it was often a mystery. For he used none of the arts
commonly practised to secure the good opinion and attachment of
men. On the contrary his manner, towards those who were not more
or less familiar with him, was sometimes thought to be cold, distant,
reserved. Even in his intercourse with his pupils, he was for from
habitually adopting that freedom and ease of manner which often
makes school so pleasant. And yet, we may venture to say that the
instances are very rare, in which a teacher is so earnestly and at the
same time so universally beloved by his pupils as was Mr. Tillinghast.

NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST, 447

The true secret of all this power of his over his pupils, which enabled
liira to fill them in a great measure with his own spirit, as well as
of the remarkable affection which they entertained towards him, —
the secret of all this lay in his personal character, in that quiet but
unflinching devotion to principle, that heroic and real abnegation of
self, which to those who knew him intimately, appeared as the ruling
trait of his moral nature. His words, being few, and well considered,
were very impressive, and yet, not so much for what he said as for
what he was, did he exert so positive, so salutary, and so extended an
influence. His pupils were fully persuaded of the soundness of his
judgment, his unswerving integrity of purpose, his perfect sincerity
and scrupulous justice ; and in this persuasion, they seemed to sur-
render themselves unconditionally to his influence. His devotional
exercises in the school were always conducted with great simplicity
of manner, but with a power which his pupils can never forget. His
reading of the Scriptures, and of those brief, earnest and devout
prayers, in his calm and serious manner, w^as an exceedingly impres-
sive exercise. The words sounded through the perfectly quiet room
like the voice of inspiration. He did not discard the teaching of reli-
gion and morals, by word or by book, but in these departments, he
depended mainly upon that silent teaching which a man of strong re-
ligious feeling, and pure character will infuse into the very atmosphere
of a school-room. One of the natural results of this course was, that
when he did employ words for enforcing some religious or moral
truth, they made a deep and distinct impression upon the listener's
mind, and the precepts imparted were, in many instances, never for-
gotten. His power was particularly apparent when some delinquency
on the part of a pupil, made it necessary to administer reproof. On
such occasions, his words were very few, and by no means severe, and
yet they very deeply affected those to whom they were addressed. I
never knew a pupil of his who did not shrink even from the mildest
reprimand from him. The mere knowledge on the part of a pupil,
that Mr. Tillinghast disapproved of his course, even where no disap-
probation had been expressed, was a burden which very few could
endure. I do not think that in the management of his school, he
can be said to have been fertile in expedients. He ruled by the force
of his own exalted character, by his earnestness and faith. His
remedies for delinquency were, in the main, general ; he did not re-
sort to one expedient with one person, and to another with the next,
but he approached all in the same straight forward and frank manner.
This course is not to be commended to every teacher ; most of us

^^g NICHOLAS TILLINGHASr.

need to vary our modes of reproof or punishment, according to the
character of the individual to be affected. Our moral power is too
feeble ; it cannot bend the stubborn will, or arouse the slumbering
energies of our pupils, without the aid of schemes devised by the in-
tellect. But in Mr. Tillinghast, the moral power was so well developed
that it seemed to bear down all opposition before it, without the aid
of shifts and expedients, and for himself, his mode of proceeding was
undoubtedly the best.

Of his character as a teacher of the intellect, we may also say that
it was distinctly marked. His most notable trait in this respect was
something similar to what is usually expressed by the word thorough-
ness. And yet this word does not fully exhibit the idea. There w^as
thoroughness in his teaching, but there was also another element,
which if we could coin a word, we might call lo(/icalness, — an ar-
ranging of the subject taught according to the character and wants of
the mind to be instructed. In every operation, there was not only
thorough knowledge, but thorough reasoning. Every point was not
only to be thoroughly understood, but it was to be understood ration-
ally, it was to be understood not only by itself, but also in its rela-
tions. The pupil was himself required to discover if possible, or at
least to appreciate, the connection between one part of the subject
and another, to see how much of one statement could be inferred
from a previous one. Mere thoroughness in the knowledge of facts, or
of principles, learned and remembered, is a very different matter from
the thoroughness that characterized the teaching of Mr. Tillinghast.
The one can be accomplished by the industry of the pupil ; the other
requires, in addition, careful thought and ready skill on the part of
the teacher. Ilis great weapon, by the help of which he accomplished
his work in the recitation-room, was the asking of questions. And
his questions were always framed with a view of ascertaining, in re-
spect to the subject of the lesson, what the pupil knew, and how he
knew it, and the causal interrogative was so frequently employed in
his exercises, that his pupils were in the habit of calling it the
"eternal Wiy." He had rare skill in arranging his questions, so as
to expose every false opinion, every illogical conclusion. How many
times has the glib and fair-seeming explanation been shown to be
hollow and unmeaning by his searching interrogatories ! How often
have ignorance and sophistry been forced suddenly to stand out in
their native deformity, as at the touch of an Ith Uriel's spear, when in
guise of knowledge and wisdom, they had been silently but surely
working the destruction of thorough study and good mental habits !

NICHOLAS TILLING HAST. 449

And liow iTicany teachers rejoice, to-day, in having had their eyes first
opened by these thorough and faithful recitations !

From tliis it will appear that Mr. Tillinghast was a teacher, an
educator, one who considered his employment an art, to bo rightly
practised only by those who in some way liave studied its principles.
It is scarcely necessary for me to add here, that he was entirely in-
different as to where or how such study had been pursued, provided
only it had been thorough and efficient. He thoroughly knew what
he was to teach, — no man better, — but he also knew how the
knowledge must be imparted in order to promote the mental culture
of the pupil. His recitations were quiet, he employed in them very
few words, and yet they were full of earnest thought both on his own
part and on that of the scholars. Indeed the most noticeable thing
about his recitations, was their tendency to awaken thought in the
pupil. And this we should be prepared to expect from knowing how
they were conducted. Every individual was required to stand upon
his own feet, and when he made a statement, to make it from his own
perception of its truth. There was no trading on borrowed capital, —
or if circumstances seemed to indicate that this was attempted, — that
something was confidently stated, which had been received by the
pupil upon authority, when it ought to have been reached by his own
thought, how soon a skillful question, calling for an exhibition of the
vouchers, became the occasion of a failure 1

It may not be uninteresting to state here, that Mr. Tillinghast was
of the opinion that it would neither be well nor expedient to make
the Normal Schools exclusively professional, in the sense of excluding
from them every study except that of the science and art of teaching.
Indeed, his own instruction in this latter department was in a great
measure, though not entirely, imparted indirectly, and in connection
with the teaching of other things. And let it not be thought, on this
account, that he considered it of trifling importance. By no means ;
for a considerable portion of time was devoted entirely to this subject
in his own school. But when we speak of Mr. Tillinghast's giving
instruction indirectly, we must not forget that he had a power of
silent, and perhaps " unconscious" teaching, that produced great and
positive results. This we have already attempted to set forth. He
taught many things, without uttering a word, that in the minds of
his pupils, have taken a distinct form, and become to them a sure
guide.

But while Mr. Tillinghast was thus faithful to the weightier matters
of his profession, he did not neglect the minutije, — the mint, anise
and cummin of pedagogic law. Amonn- the humble, but exceedingly

Cc

450 NICHOLAS TILLINGIIAST.

appropriate virtues wLieli he carefully practised, was that of punctu-
ality. The habit of punctuality and regularity had undoubtedly been
strengthened in him by his experience in the army. But aside from
this, he was punctual and regular from principle. Only once during
the thirteen yeare that he was at the head of the school at Bridge-
water, was he late ; and that once, no one who was a pupil at the time
can soon forget. So remarkable a thing was it for Mr. Tillinghast not
to be at his post at the moment for beginning the exercises, that it
was thought he must be prostrated by sickness, and a committee of
the pupils was appointed to proceed to his house and to ascertain the
facts. This committee found him quietly walking his parlor, awaiting,
as he supposed, the hour for opening the school. He had just ex-
amined his watch, and although it really indicated the correct time,
yet by some strange mistake, he thought he had half an hour to
spare.

To enumerate all his school-room characteristics would occupy too
much of our time. We will therefore only glance at a few, of which
the contemplation would seem to be the most useful. And, jQrst, he
was remarkably accurate in his work, even to the minutest details,
and he required perfect and minute accuracy in his pupils. No ex-
cellence of explanation, no appreciation, however thorough, of general
principles, was ever allowed to atone for mistakes in the details of an
operation, mathematical or otherwise. And such errors he had great
skill in discovering. A mere glance of his eye over a blackboard
solution of a problem in mathematics, would detect any error where-
ever it might lurk, among the wilderness of figures and symbols.
And it should be noticed that in carrying out this trait of his character,
he was always as ready tq acknowledge his own errors as to point out
those of another. Although such acknowledgment was seldom re-
quired, yet whenever it was required, it was made with alacrity, and
without any of the miserable shuffling, explaining, and excusing
sometimes practised on such occasions by teachers who would fain be
considered infallible.

But rather than say anything further of my own, concerning Mr.
lillinghast's qualities as a teacher, I will take the liberty of repeating
the testimony of another of his pupils, a gentleman eminent in bis
profession, occupying an honorable and important post connected with
the educational interests of another State, and who was for long and
intimately acquainted with our beloved teacher. This testimony seems
to me so just and well expressed that I introduce it even at the risk
of some slight repetition.

" He was a truly religious man, and in the highest and best sense ;

NICHOLAS TILLINGIIAST. ' 451

for Ills religion manifested itself in his life and deeds, ratlier than in
his words. He always sought to know the right, and to do it ; to
seek the path of duty and to follow it, lead where it might.

"He was sincere and true in his dealings with himself and with
others, neither doing nor saying anything merely for effect. He cen-
sured the wrong because it was wrong, and commended the right be-
cause it was right, and showed by his life that his own standard of
action corresponded to that which he indicated to others.

" He was truly and unaffectedly modest. He forced you to think
of the subject he presented rather than of himself He never pressed
himself, his opinions, or his school, on the notice of others. He
sought no expression of their good opinion, and deprecated not their
ill opinion. While at times he may have felt that his school did not
receive that attention from without which it deserved, and that his
work .was not fully appreciated by any save his own pupils, he would
by no act or word call attention to it. He was content to labor on,
believing that the time would surely come when the result of his
work would be made manifest, whether he should be known in it or
not.

" He had that high self-respect which led him to respect others.
He therefore appealed to worthy motives only. Everything like
trickery and deception he despised, in teacher as well as in pupil.
Hence he could never tolerate those whom he could not trust. He
had a deep sense of personal responsibihty, and sought, — with great
success— to inspire others with it.

" His words of reproof were few, yet apt. There was no escaping
them. They never came undeserved, they were always direct, al-
ways kindly spoken, and always " told home."

"Though at first reserved and apparently cold and distant, he was
very warm-hearted and generous, sympathetic and kind. Happy
indeed were they who came to know him intimately.

" He was industrious, earnest, and devoted. He allowed himself
no idle hours, and discouraged all idleness in others. He believed
that * nothing good was ever come by without labor,' and regarded
industry as a duty. Hence, he never did his pupils' work for them.
He would guide them in the right track, and indicate methods of
overcoming difficulties, but nothing more. His suggestions and expla-
nations, and the assistance he rendered never did away with the
necessity of thought on the part of the pupil, but rather made it the
more necessary. With him, no glibness or readiness could conceal or
atone for a want of study ; nor could self-distrust or diffidence hide
the evidence of faithful preparation.

452 NICHOLAS tillinghast.

"Almost invariably accurate, lie was ever ready to acknowleclge
any error he had made. The sentence, ' I Avas wrong in my state-
ment or opinion,' fell from his lips, though very, very rarely called for,
as easily as did the contrary one, 'You were wrong.' He never
sought to hide, or explain away, or excuse erroneous statement or
explanation which he had made ; but, always endeavored to correct
it. He was very successful in exciting a similar spirit in his pupils.

"He had great analytical power. While he could grasp a subject
as a whole, he could also comprehend all its parts, could trace their
relations to each other, and could determine the proper place and im-
portance of each. To this power he was indebted, I think, for the
great clearness of his explanations.

" He had a great love for thoroughness, — thoroughness in study,
in teaching, in everything. Especially was he thorough in investiga-
ting and teaching the first principles of a science. In his view, a de-
ficiency there was fatal. He held his pupils to a point till they mas-
tered it, and could appreciate something of its relations. Those
accustomed to superficial views, sometimes complained at first of their
slow progress ; but, when the work was done, and they were prepared
for a higher course, they felt its value.

"In his teaching he was strictly inductive ; developing his subjects
easily and naturally, and removing difficulties, and explaining just
enough to stimulate to exertion. He would question closely, and
would make his pupils feel their ignorance and need of study, without
humiliating them.

"He usually read character very readily and accurately, though he
■was sometimes deceived. This, however, but seldom happened. He
imderstood his pupils much better than they thought he did, and
knew much of their thoughts, feelings, and habits of life."

To this testimony I will only add a few considerations in regard to
Mr. Tillinghast's character as a man. As has already been intimated,
the great distinctive feature of his character was his constant reference
to principle, in respect to every act. An eminent clergyman, who had
been long on terms of intimate friendship with him, once made this
remark to me : '' I believe Mr. Tillinghast never asks himself any other
question concerning a proposed act, or line of conduct, than this single
one, ' Is it right ?' " It is for Omniscience only to say, whether this
was true on every occasion, and under all circumstances. But, so far
as human insight could penetrate the hidden recesses of his mind,
which was so simple and ingenuous, it seemed so to have been. And
this conviction was felt by none so strongly as by those who were
most familiar with his private life.

NICHOLAS TILI.INGIIAST. 453

Xotwitlistanding the scrupulous severity with whicli he judged his
own conduct, his judgment of others, and especially of his friends,
was kind and liberal. He was always very lenient toward the faults
of his assistant teachers, excusing in them many deficiencies that he
would have severely censured in himself, and expressing great satis-
faction with their performances, when it was morally certain that he
would have regarded similar things in himself as of veiy little worth.

His practical benevolence, although it made serious drafts upon his
moderate salary, was conducted strictly upon the Christian plan, — his
left hand never knowing what his right hand was doing. Many a
man could tell of substantial aid received from him in greatest need,
and the books of benevolent and' reformatory associations would show
no meagre sums accredited to his name, were it not that the name
was most frequently withheld, when the gift was delivered. Where
prudence and benevolence came in apparent conflict, and either of
them was called to give way, that duty generally fell to the share of
the more cautious virtue. All generous reforms had in him a warm
sympathizer, and a prompt supporter ; and, his firm and consistent
anti-slavery was not without the usual accompaniments of obloquy
and social proscription. Naturally, he was a man of strong feelings,
both of liking and aversion. He was the firm friend, — not exacting,
but liberal, — making his friendships more valuable to his fi-iends than
to himself. His aversions were not for persons, but qualities. He
was really impatient of certain vices, such as deceit, pretence, the put-
ting on of false appearances, the arrogating to one's self of excellen-
cies to which there was no claim, the doing of things for mere efliect,
and similar maneuvering. His own conduct was outspoken and
straightforward, and his feeling of contempt for the opposite course
was very strong. But, he was free from suspicion, very slow to attri-
bute bad motives, unwilling to believe evil of those about him ; and,
it was only upon very strong evidence, that men came under his con-
demnation.

In his religious feeling, he was habitually earnest and devout ; but,
his devotion did not obtrude itself upon men's observation, and draw
attention to itself. It was a modest, firm, constant, deep-seated, calm,
and trusting devotion. At the time of his death, and for many years
before, he held the office of deacon in the Unitarian church, at Bridge-
water. We believe he was a Christian, for, otherwise, we know not
how to interpret that teaching of our Saviour. " By their fruits shall
ye know them : a corrupt tree can not bring forth good fruit."

Mr. Tillinghast's modesty made him exceedingly disinclined to
appear before the public as an author, and we are not aware that ho

454 NICHOLAS TILLINnilAST.

ever did so except in two instances. About tlie time of his appoint-
ment to Bridgewater, he prepared a work on Geometry, for tlie use of
schools ; and, a short time before the close of his connection with the
school, he published an excellent collection of prayers for schools, con-
sisting of such as he had himself used, while at Bridgewater, This
book is highly prized by his pupils, both on account of its intrinsic
merit, and because its perusal serves to recall most vividly the memory
of their teacher, in one of the most interesting exercises of their
school -days.

Tn the way of history, little more can be, at present, said. Lono--
continued hard work gradually enfeebled, and finally overpowered, a
slender physical frame. In Julj^, 1853, lie left the school, as it was
then hoped, to return to it in the coui-se of a year. But, his body
had become the prey of that fatal disease, consumption ; and, not-
-withstanding the efforts of skillful physicians, and a winter's residence
in Florida, he continued to sink in strength, and, on the 10th day of
April, 1856, he died, in the fifty-second year of his age. For some
time before his death, he had suffered much from severe fits of couo-h-
ing, and had some apprehension that he should pass aw^ay in one of
these convulsions. But, it was not so ordered. He encountered the
" king of terrors " calmly and serenely, passing gently from a quiet
sleep to the repose of death. He died the death of the Christian,
rejoicing in the hope of immortality, and, with his last breath, com-
mitting his spirit to the Father who gave it. His remains lie upon
the southern slope of the southern hill in the beautiful cemetery at
Bridgewater, at a point that overlooks the pleasant village which was
so long the scene of his labors, — where the sun smiles upon his rest,
as his Heavenly Father smiled, in the hour of death, upon his return-
ing spirit.

We are told, in Scripture, that the limit of our life is threescore
years and ten, and that the strength which carries us beyond is labor
and sorrow. From this declaration, it may be inferred that, as a
general rule, the ages of men who duly observe the laws of their
being, will ap])roach, more or less nearly, the limit here established.
Men, who receive their bodies and souls as gifts from God, which they
are to watch and keep with jealous care ; who do not poison the life-
current of the one with the artificial stimulants to a depraved appetite,
nor shake the foundations of the other by the upheavings of ungoverned
passion ; such men may be expected to approach, in their journey,
the outmost confines of human, life, and to pass away amid the con-
solations of a green old age.

But, there are, sometimes, crises in human affairs; times when the

NICHOLA.S TILLINGIIAST 455

development of some great principle, or the illustration of some truth
not known to the multitude of men, demands that the work of many
years shall be crowded into one ; or, that the power of truth shall be
illustrated in one glorious moment of martyrdom; when, at the call
of duty, life must either be shortened by an intense devotion to a great
work, or its thread be suddenly snapped as a testimony to the faith-
fulness of the laborer, and the greatness of the work in which he was
engaged. The higher life, the progress of the race, may require the
sacrifice of the lower life of the individual. Thus, we believe, passed
away the beloved teacher, whose memory we this day, with a sad
pleasure, recall. He entered the public educational field when the
skies were dark, when the star of hope had scarcely risen, and was
obscured by the cloud of an adverse public sentiment ; when the nor-
mal schools were, even by their friends, considered only as an experi-
ment, and one that, in the opinion of many experienced and able
statesmen, would prove an entire failure. It was to a cause thus un-
promising that he gave the whole energy of his soul. With an
untiring industry, he devoted to his school his days and his nights.
He engaged in hard and continuous study, not from motives of ambi-
tion, but from a deep sense of responsibility in respect to his school,
and to its influence in advancing the cause of education. Nor did the
necessity for such study arise from a defective education, but from a
determination to adapt his instructions to the mental and moral wants
of his pupils, and of those whom they, in their turn, were to educate.
He was earnestly desirous that, so far as he could exert any influence
upon the character of the public schools, that influence should be good,
should tend to their elevation and improvement, and to the advance-
ment of the cause of popular education ; and this, not for his own
sake, that he might acquire a reputation, and occupy an honorable
position in the sight of men, but for the sake of the thousands whose
hearts and minds are formed, in a great measure, in those conservators
of New England virtue and intelligence, — the public schools.

Such were his aims, and the amount of labor which he thought
necessary to their accomplishment, could be sustained only by a robust
physical frame, and could be performed only by a well-balanced and
active mind, guided by the highest principles, and acting under the
influence of a determined will. For such a work we believe his men-
tal and moral endowments to have been eminently fit ; but, in his
physical system, the necessary conditions were not supplied ; the
sword was too sharp for the scabbard, the energies of the spirit were
too mighty for the clay, and the mortal coil was shuffled ofi". Shall
we now say that his life was not sacrificed in the discharge of a high

456 NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST.

and holy duty; and, shall we doubt that Heaven approved the offer-
ing? Every heart instinctively answers, no. The exigency demanded
the sacrifice. His example was needed to show us, his pupils, what
manner of spirit we must be of; with what forgetfulness of self we
must devote ourselves to the noble work whereon we have entered ;
how, with an eye single to Truth and the Right, in spite of difficulties
and discouragements, we must still labor on, in patience and in faith,
believing that the harvest will surely come, whether we are among
the reapers or not.

And, was the work of Mr. Tillinghast worth such a sacrifice ? Did
he, in his short life, achieve results at all commensurate with the time,
the labor, and the life that were devoted to them ? Let the appeal
be made to every individual who ever enjoyed the benefit of his
instructions. My brother, or my sister, whence came your higher
views of life and its duties ? Who opened to your mind a new world
of intellectual life and moral perceptions, of which you had before
never had a glimpse ? Who stirred your soul to higher aspirations
than you had ever felt, and roused it to nobler purposes than you had
as yet formed ? Who waked up within you a moral energy that,
when you do not permit other influences to smother it, makes you
ashamed of low views of duty, of feeble and ill-directed effort, and
enkindles within you a glowing earnestness in your work ? On this
point, I am sure that language fails to express what is deeply and
clearly felt in the heart of every pupil of his, who is with us to-day.
We all feel that the great work which he did for us, that which we
most highly value, is precisely that which can not be represented in
speech. That higher teaching was not conveyed to us in words, and
words can not impart it to others. If imparted at all, it must be by
the sympathy of spirit with spirit. If, therefore, we would do for o\ir
pupils what he did for us, we must teach as he taught, by possessing
ourselves the qualities with which we would have their characters
adorned, and by entering upon our work with a zeal and an earnest-
ness that will bring the minds of our pupils into sympathy with our
own ; remembering that only from the fullness of our own hearts, and
the perfection of our own characters, can we have the instruction to
impart; and, only by a glowing and energizing enthusiasm can we
make it efficient upon the character of others.

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458 FRANCIS DWIGHT.

of March, 1808. At a very early period he gave promise of future
proficiency. Possessed of an ardent temperament and strong will, he
evinced an unconquerable determination to excel in the acquisition of
knowledge. At the age of fourteen, (1822,) he entered Philip's
Academy, at Exeter. When sixteen, (1824,) he entered Harvard
University, at Cambridge, graduating therefrom in August, 1827,
when he entered the law school of Northampton, in September, 1827,
where he pursued the study of the law for two years.

On the first of September, 1829, he became a member of the law
school, in Harvard University, and in July, 1830, he received most
gratifying testimonials from Hon. Joseph Story, of the United States
Supreme Court, and the Hon. John H. Ashman, both professors of
the law institution at Cambridge. The name of Judge Story, the
Dane professor of law at Harvard, associated as it is with the most
distinguished judicial and private honor, will live, so long as talents
and virtue command respect. An endorsement from that source was
truly an inestimable passport, and it was with pride that Mr. Dwiglit
could claim the friendship and regard of that eminent jurist.

When about to separate, Judge Story place'd in the hands of Mr.
Dwight the expression of his opinion that, during his studentship, he
had been " very diligent and attentive to his studies, and irreproach-
able in his conduct and character," and "I take pleasure," he says, "in
adding, that his talents and professional attainments entitle him to
the confidence and respect of the profession and the public."

The severe application of Mr. Dwight compelled a short cessation
from his professional studies, and he, soon after leaving Cambridge,
visited Europe for a year or two, where he followed his literary tastes,
and reveled in the enjoyment of association with many of the dis-
tinguished men who then filled the public eye; visiting all parts of
Europe; examining the public institutions of France, England, and
Germany, especially those pertaining to education ; and employing his
mind, while in the pursuit of health, upon those subjects which he
thought might be appropriated usefully thereafter, to benefit the in-
stitutions of his own country. He seems to have kept his faculties
constantly exercised, and prepared to receive every impression which
surrounding objects might afford. It is thought his benevolent mind
was first directed, during his tour abroad, to the subject of improved
facilities of education for his countrymen, when contemplating the
wide-spread despotism and misery existing in foreign nations, the cer-
tain offspring of ignorance and vice.

In 1834, he was admitted to the practice of the law, as an attorney
at the bar of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts.

FRANCIS DWIGIIT. 459

In 1835, he removed to Michigan Teri-ltory, where he was admitted
to practice as an attorney and counselor.

In 1838, he commenced his residence in the State of New York,
and was admitted to practice as attorney and counselor by Chief
Justice Nelson, and, in 1840, was admitted, by Chancellor Walworth,
to practice in the Court of Chancery.

Mr. Dwight resided, at this time, at Geneva, Ontario County. At
this delightful retreat, his natural temperament had full indulgence in
the calm, but industrious pursuit of learning, and not a moment was
lost in storing and adorning, by hard study and investigation, his
cultivated mind.

Mr. Dwight was an early and enthusiastic admirer of the gigantic
intellect, and consummate statesmanship, of De Witt Clinton, and
cordially adopted the philosophical and benignant sentiments of that
illustrious man, as expressed in his gubernatorial message to the legis-
lature, in 1828.

"Permit me,'' says Gov. Clinton, "to solicit your attention to the
two extremes of education, the highest and the lowest. And this I
do, in order to promote the cultivation of those to whom fortune has
denied the means of education. Let it be our ambition (and no am-
bition can be more laudable,) to dispense to the obscure, the poor,
the humble, the friendless, and the depressed, the power of rising to
usefulness, and acquiring distinction." Here he first originated and
embarked in the novel and also important enterprise of establishing,
under state patronage, a journal to be devoted exclusively to the cause
of education. There were great discouragements in the undertaking,
but Mr. Dwight was not of a mold to succumb to any obstacles ;
he adopted, in all of his resolutions, the inimitable remark of Bux-
ton: "The great difference between the great and the little, the pow-
erful and the feeble, is made by energy, an invincible determination, —
a purpose once fixed, and then death or victory." Aware, however,
of the responsibilities he proposed to assume, he wisely consulted
with older heads, and with those whose countenance and influence
could best sustain his efforts At that time, learned and prominent
public men, and wealthy private individuals, were manifesting deep
interest in the cause of education. Mr. Dwight judiciously sought
the counsel and advice of many of them, and in all quarters, and
from the liighest and best sources he received encouragement and
promise of support. The Hon. John C. Spencer, being then, as sec-
retary of state ex-officio, superintendent of the common schools of
the state, a duty which he performed with his accustomed energy
and zeal, was written to by Mr. Dwight, respecting his project, and

460 FRANCIS DWIGHT.

Mr. Spencer's reply (dated Albany, Dec. 9tli, 1839,) greatly encour-
aged and stimulated his exertions. He says : —

Your letter of the 7th is received. I have long felt the want of a common
school journal, through which my own communications n)ight be made to com-
missioners and trustees, and which otherwise nnght be made a channel of valu-
able information. I know nothing which promises so much immediate benefit to
common schools, and the cause of education generally. I am very glad you have
turned your thoughts to the subject, and I do not hesitate to say tiiat 1 deem you
better qualified than any other person I know to conduct such a journal. I am
clearly of opinion that such a paper should be published at the seat of govern-
ment. At that point there is a concentration of intelligence, and of interest, that
can exist nowhere else. My wish, therefore, would be that you should come to
this city, and establisii a paper devoted to education, that should be worthy of our
state, and of the character she has already acquired.

And again, on 3d February, 1840, Mr. Spencer writes: —
I approve, heartily, of the plan of the journal for common schools contained in
your letter of the 3Uth ult., and I should be glad to have you issue a number as a
specimen. 1 entertain little doubt that the legislature wi.l authorize me to sub-
scribe for 10,000 copies, at $2500 ; but of course 1 can not guaranty it, and I sup-
pose, until that subscription is made, I can not say absolutely ^o ov. But the ex-
hibition of a specimen number would, of itself, have great mfiuence. We want a
new name, that shall be appropriate 5 what say you to

'■'■The District School Journal for the State of New Yorky
This means something different from the Common School Journal, and refei-s
directly to our system. If you conclude to print, let me know, and I will give
you a letter of encouragement to publish, and, I doubt not, Gen. Dix will do the
same.

In the month of March, 1840, Mr. D wight commenced the journal,
adopting the name recommended by Mr. Spencer. Its ap})earance
produced a wide-spread sensation, and it was received with marked
satisfaction by all interested in the great cause of education through-
out the state. Mr. Spencer (March 28th, 1840,) writes, to Mr. Dwight :

I have received the copies of the District School Journal which you sent me,
and am much pleased with its matter and manner. It is well filled, and its
typography is beautiful. I hear it spoken of by several already, in high terms-
have read one of them with great satisfaction. The selections are good, the tone
and spirit is right, and every thing is as it should be.

Thus fortified and supported by the head of the school department,
Mr. Dwight persevered in his adventurous task, and most efficiently
and sucessfuUy did he discharge his editorial duties. He soon adopted
the advice of the secretary of state, and removed to Albany, which
proved a better location for the diffusion of his journal.

Very soon after reaching Albany, he was strongly urged to enter
the political arena, and take part in the great presidential struggle,
but he resolutely declined all solicitations of that kind. Although
high official distinctions were ])romised, he could not be prevailed upon
to quit the path of duty he had marked out for his future conduct.
The turbid waters of politics were uncongenial to his tastes and habits,
and he decided sensibly and definitely, to reject all inducements of
official preferment, and to devote his life and talents to the great
cause of popular education.

FRANCIS DWIGIIT. 461

Mr. Dwiglit's singleness of purpose, and un^vearie(l assiduity, se-
cured the cordial co-operation and approval of the public authorities
at the capitol, and, during a period of five years, his District School
Journal was the focus which attracted, and cemented together, all the
elements in the state, favorable to the great cause in which he was
engaged. Mr. Dwight's modest deportment and captivating manners
won for him golden opinions and sincere regard ; it was remarked by
those in closest communion with liim, —

" His tongue is still in concert with his heart, —
His simplest words an unknown grace impart, —
His air, his looks, proclaim an honest bent.
And, ere he speaks, we yield our full assent."

He soon became pre-eminent in official station. lie was selected
as county superintendent of common schools for the city and county
of Albany, and in that character, for several years, visited and reformed
the schools under his jurisdiction ; and his reports to the superintend-
ent of common schools, display an admirable familiarity with the sub-
ject, lie was one of the members and secretary of the board of
common schools of the city of Albany ; and, on 1st June, 1844, was
unanimously appointed, by the regents of the university, one of a
board, or executive committee, for the care, government, and manage-
ment of the '"''N'ormal School,''^ his colleagues being the superintend-
ent of common schools, (Col. Samuel Young,) Rev. Alonzo Potter,
Hon. Gideon Ilawley, and Rev. Wra. II. Campbell.

In the midst of his many labors, arduous and unremitting, but per-
formed, with delight because his heart was in the work, — at the time
when the seed he had scattered broadcast, was ripening into a harvest
of generally acknowledged usefulness, — with a larger measure of
social and domestic happiness than is meted out to but few men, and
with a future full of promise to him in all his relations, public and
private, his brief and bright career was extinguished by death on the
15th of December, 1845, at the age of thirty-seven. .

We can not better close this imperfect sketch than by recording
here some of the many public and private expressions of sorrow
which this event elicited. They afford the best possible evidence of
the high appreciation of his services to the cause of education, and
of his private worth, entertained by those who were associated with
him in public trust, or who knew him well in the inner circle of his
home, and of private friendship.

The executive committee of the state normal school, on motion of
Mr. Benton, secretary of state, passed resolutions of condolence, ex-
pressing their appreciation, in the highest degree, of the eminent serv-

462 FRANCIS DWIGHT.

ices of Mr. Dwight, tlieir late associate secretaiy and treasurer, as
an ardent and most devoted friend of popular education, and an act-
ive and efficient member of that board. Similar resolutions were
passed by the normal school, by the Albany teachers, and by a large
number of the county school associations.

The Hon. Henry Barnard, then Commissioner of Public Schools in
the State of Rhode Island after noticing the circumstances of Mr.
Dwight's death, in the ^^ Journal of the R. I. Institute of Instruction^''
closes with the following condensed summary of his labors and
character.

At the time of his death, Mr. Dwight was a member of the executive com-
mittee of the state normal school, at Albany, as well as secretary and treasurer
of the board, member and secretary of the board of commissioners of the dis-
trict schools of Albany, and editor of the District School Journal of the State
of New York. Since 1838, he has labored with a zeal, devotion, and intelligence
surpassed by no other, in behalf of the various features of improvement which
have been incorporated into the noble system of elementary instruction, of which
the Empire State is now so justly proud. One of the first, if not the first Union
School in the state, was established mainly by his efforts in the village of Geneva.
The District School Journal was started originally at his own risk, as an indis-
pensable auxiliary in the work of improving common schools. The system of
county supervision, and of a single executive oflScer for each town, instead of the
irresponsible and complicated plan of numerous commissioners and inspectors for
each town ; the origination and organization of the state normal school ; the local
improvements in the district schools of the city of Albany ; and the various con-
ventions of the county superintendents, found in him an early and earnest friend,
co-operator, and advocate. He had consecrated himself to the great work of mak-
ing education, — education in its large and true sense, — the birthright and birth
blessing of every child, whether rich or poor, within the bounds of New York ;
and, for this object, he was willing to labor, in season and out of season, and to
spend and be spent. But in the midst of his labors and his usefulness, he has been
cut down ; and, to use the language of his associates in the superintendence of the
normal school, " in this sudden and afilictive event we recognize the frailty of
earthly anticipations, and that neither distinguished public services, nor the highest
prospect of future usefulness, nor ' troops of friends,' nor high responsibilities
and far-reaching benevolence, nor worth, nor talents, can avert the inevit<able
hour." We dare not intrude upon the sacredness of private sorrow further than
to add, that it was in ihe courtesies of private life, in the faithful discharge of
all the duties of a friend, brother, husband, and fitither, that the excellencies
of Mr. Dwight's character were best seen ; and itis in these relations that his
death is most severely felt.

An appropriate notice of the event, from the pen of the Hon.

Horace Mann, appeared in the ^^ Common School Journal^'' published

in Massachusetts, in which, with great force and beauty, he depicted the

merits of his departed friend : —

Before entering upon the discussion of any of the topics appropriate to the pres-
ent occasion, we have the melancholy duty to perform of announcing the death of
our personal friend and co-laborer, Francis Dwight, Esq., of Albany, so long and so
widely known as the able, the sincere, and the eftieient advocate of common schools.
AVith other eminent friends of popular education in the State of New York, Mr.
Dwight had been actively instrumental in devising, and in causitig to be placed
upon the statute book, the present code of laws on the subject of public instruc-
tion in that state, which code, at the time of its adoption, and until it had been
substantially copied by other legislatures, was the most perfectly organized and

FRANCIS DWIGHT. 463

efficient sj'stem in the world. In all these stations of honor and of trust, Mr.
Dwight had conducted himself with great discretion, ability, and zeal. As an
examiner of schools, he was competent, impartial, and thorough ; having the
readiest disposition to discover and to applaud the aquisition of knowledge, and tho
justice to unmask and expose pretension and ignorance. As a n)ember of tho
executive committee of the state normal school at Albany, he assisted in estab-
lishing that school upon a most admirable foundation, whether we consider the
course of instruction there pursued, or the inducements held out to invite talent
and educational enterprise from all parts of the state to avail themselves of its ad-
vantiiges. As editor of the District School Journal, being aided by the patron-
age of the state, which, at the expense of the common school fund, sends one
copy of the Journal to every school district within its ample borders, he has
spread before the people an amount of documentary information on the organiza-
tion, the defects, and means of improvement, of common schools, more copious
than was ever distributed before, in any part of the world. Continually supplied
with their able reports by the county superintendents, the Journal has made the
atmosphere of New York nutritious with common school ideas, and electric with
common school zeal.

In the prime of life, and in the full vigor and maturity of his powers, and
capability of discharging his duties, Mr. Dwight has left that noble sphere of ac-
tion, which, from the afHnities of his own mind to virtue and to usefulness, he
had chosen. Public sorrow and private friendship mingle their regrets at his
loss. At this season, when the harvest is so plenteous but the laborers are so
few, ill can such a workman be spared.

The press throughout the state united ia the expression of regret at
so " irreparable a loss." The following notice from the pen of S. S.
Randall, Esq., appeared in the District School Journal, Jan., 1846 : —

In place of the customary gratulations of this festive season, our columns are
this month clothed in the habiliments of mourning, in consequence of the lamented
death of him who has heretofore, and for so long a period, been their guiding and
informing spirit! On the 15th of December, ult., that spirit took its flight from
earth to heaven, leaving desolation, solitude, and deep affliction to his bereaved
famil)', and a large circle of acquaintances and friends. The numerous and touch-
ing testimonials of the various public bodies with which he was connected at the
time of his death, and which we take the melancholy satisfaction in transfer-
ring to our columns, show the estimation and regard in which he was held by
them and by the community in which he resided ; but the loss which that com-
munity and the interests of popular education have sustained, can not be ade-
quately expressed in words. Although liberally educated and furnished with all
the advantages which wealth and foreign travel could supply, Mr. Dwight had
devoted every energy of his fine talents and richly cultivated mind to the advance-
ment of the interests of common school education. Industrious, indefatigable,
judicious, and discriminating, he had availed himself of every practicable source
of information and knowledge, which might in any way be brought to bear upon
this great field of labor and usefulness ; and " the cause he knew not, he searched
out." lie was a most efficient auxiliary in the establishment and organization of
the existing common school system ; and has uniformly been one of its most ar-
dent and enthusiastic supporters and defenders, " through evil and through good
report." In the discharge of the various public duties which were, from time to
time, cast upon him, he was accurate, thorough, and efficient; and many an edu-
cator of youth will trace to the well-filled pages of this Journal, while under his
immediate supervision, the germs of excellence and the materials of future pro-
gress in an arduous and laborious profession. As a man and a citizen, he was
universally beloved and respected ; and, if a life of earnest and constant endeavor
to be useful in his generation, constitutes any test of christian charity, and religious
hope, those consolations of the word of God, which cheered his dying hours and
illumined the "dark valley of the shadow of death," afford the most gratifying as-
surance, that for him " to die was gain."

His funeral was attended on the 18th ult. from his late residence; and, not-
withstanding the inclemency of the day, all classes of our citizens united in pay-
ing the last tribute of respect and affection to their deceased friend. The adja-

464 FRANCIS DWIGIIT.

cent churclics were thrown o])en for the accommoclation of the pupils of the public
scliools, and such others at could not obtain entrance into the house ; and the pro-
cession of citizens, on foot and in sleighs, was one of the largest and most impos-
ing ever known in our city. In short, on no occasion have we ever known a
more deep and general feeling of sympathy and grief than that which pervaded
all classes of our comniunity on the receipt of the mulancholy intelligence of the
death of our distinguished friend.

"We Lave been permitted to peruse a note of condolence, written

to liis relict, (Dec. 18tb, 1845,) by a distinguished friend of the

deceased, the Hon. D. D. Barnard, of Albany, from which we make a

few extracts : —

I hope it may not be deemed altogether an intrusion upon a grief so unspeak-
able as yours must be, that I seek to offer you in this way, in a single word or two,
the expression of my heart-felt sympathy. I believe I know, better than any one
out of his own family circle, what a loss you have met with in the death of your
husband. I had, years ago, an opportunity to become most intimately acquainted
with him; and, as he vi'as utterly guileless, / did know him thoroughly, and just
as truly as I knew him I loved him. I loved him, and mourn him as a brother.
How vividly are now revived within me the unforgotten, and never to be forgot-
ten, impressions then made on me, by his brilliant parts, his manly bearing, his
high-souled generosity, his gentle heart, as tender find loving as a woman's. May
I not hope it may tend a little to soothe the violence of your grief to know that
he was well appreciated and sincerely loved ? He had troops of grateful friends
here, and all over the state, and his death is felt, and will be felt, as a severe
public loss. This is something for you to know ; but I wish you to know also that,
for one, from the bottom of my heart I loved him. Happy as he was, happy in
his family, and above all in you, respected by the world, and doing a world of
good, how hard it must have been for him to die ; and yet, as I am told, he was
so calm, so composed, so resigned ! This was like him ; and, besides, he was a
Christian. Let us bless God for this, and take comfort ; and may God's own
gracious arm, and his abundant love, sustain, revive, and console you.

We conchide by another quotation from a letter addressed to the
widow of Mr. Dwight, by the Hon. Henry Barnard, of Hartford, Conn.,
then of Providence, R. I. : —

No death in the whole circle of my friends could have occurred so utterly un-
expected, so startling in its announcement, as that of your husband. This very
week, I anticipated spending a few days with him, that we might take sweet
counsel together, on subjects to which we were mutually devoted. Although
every wliere respected, and numbering troops of friends, it was in the walks of
private life, in the numberlees, nameless acts of kindness and of love, which marked
his in-door family daily history, that the purest and most attractive traits of his
character were exhibited, and that his loss will be longest and most deeply felt.

As a laborer in the same field, I feel his loss most heavily. No one could be
more sincerely wedded to any cause, more willing to spend and be spent in its
service, than he was to the cause of a generous and complete education of the
whole people. Such laborers are few ; and God grant that the standard, which
he bore aloft so steadily, may fall into hands as strong — it can not be protected by
a heart more true.

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4G6 DAVID PERKINS PAGE.

Hampton Academy, and prepare to become a teacher. Was' not this,
indeed, an example of '' the ruling passion strong in death?" The fa-
ther could not refuse the request proffered at such a time; what father
could ? The boy did recover, and he did go to the academy, a plain
farmer's boy ; he dressed in plain former's clothes, and hence, some
self- conceited puppies, "whose more fjishionable exterior could not hide
the meanness of their souls, deemed him fit subject for their gibes
and sneers; but his earnest nature, and his intense love of study were
not to be thwarted by such rebuffs ; he pursued the even tenor of
his way, and, having spent some mouths at the academy, he taught a
district school for the ensuing winter, and then returned again to the
academy. Here his progress in study was rapid ; but, the ensuing
winter, we find him again teaching in his native town, and his further
studies were prosecuted without assistance. The next winter he had
determined to make teaching a profession, and accordingly, having
taught a district school at Newbury, Mass., during the winter, at its
close he opened a private school ; a daring step for a young man but
nineteen years of age, and who had enjoyed so few advantages of ed-
ucation, but the success which followed fully justified the self-reliance
which led him to attempt it. At the beginning he had five pupils,
but he pei-severed, and before the close of the term, the number he
had contemplated was full. Here, as every where else, during his
career as a teacher, was manifested that diligence, industry, and
careful preparation for his duties, which made him so eminently
successful. He studied the lessons he was to teach, thoroughly,
that he might impart instruction with that freshness and interest
which such study would give ; he studied his scholars, thoroughly,
that he might adapt his teachings to their several capacities, encour-
aging the diffident and sluggish, restraining the forward, and rousing
the listless and careless to unwonted interest and energy ; he studied,
too, their moral natures, and sought to wake in their youthful hearts
aspirations for goodness and purity ; and he studied whatever would
enlarge his sphere of thought, intelligence, and professional usefulness.
Such a teacher was sure to rise in reputation ; slowly, perhaps, but
certainly, and hence it need not surprise us to learn that, within two
years, he was associate principal of the Newburyport High School,
having charge of the English department. Here, for twelve years,
he was associated with Roger S. Howard, Esq., one of the most emi-
nent teachers in Massachusetts, and how well he fulfilled his duties,
Mr. Howard, who survived him, testifies. The same intense fondness
for study characterized him, leading him to acquire a very competent
knowledge of the Latin language, and something of the Greek ; the

DAVID PERKINS PAGE. 467

same earnest and conscientious performance of all his school duties,
and delight in them, was manifested here as in his humbler position.
It was while occupying this post, that he first began to come before
the public as a lecturer. He was an active and prominent membCj.
of the Essex County Teachers' Association, one of the most efficient
educational organizations in Massachusetts, and delivered before that
body several lectures, which Hon. Horace Mann characterized as the
best ever delivered before that or any other body. Of one of these,
on "TAe Mutual Duties of Parents and Teachers^'' six thousand
copies were printed and distributed (3000 of them at Mr. Mann's ex-
pense,) throughout the state. Mr. Page's powers as an orator and
debater, were of a very high order; lie possessed, says Mr. Mann
(himself an orator of no mean powers,) " that rare quality, so indis-
pensable to an orator, the 'power to think^ standing on his feet, and he-
fore folksP As a teacher, he exhibited two valuable qualifications ;
the ability to turn the attention of his pupils to the principles which
explain facts, and in such a way that they could see clearly the con-
nection ; and the talent for reading the character of his scholars, so
accurately, that he could at once discern what were their governing
passions and tendencies, what in them needed encouragement and
what repression. Thus, useful, active, and growing in reputation, Mr.
Page remained at Newburyport till December, 1844.

In the winter preceding, the legislature of New York, wearied with
the costly, but unsuccessful measures which, year after year, had been
adopted for the improvement of her public schools, had appointed a
committee of its own body, warm friends of education, to visjt the
normal schools of Massachusetts, and make a report thereon. The com-
mittee attended to their duties, and made an elaborate report in favor
of the adoption of the normal school system. That report was adopted,
and an appropriation of ten thousand dollars outfit, and ten thousand
dollars per annum for five years, was voted, to establish a normal school,
as an experiment. The friends of education in New York felt that, lib-
eral as this appropriation was, eveiy thing depended upon securing
the right man to take charge of it, and long and carefully did they
ponder the question, who that man should be. Mr. Page's reputation
had already outrun the town and the county in which he resided ;
and, on the recommendation of Hon. Horace Mann, and other friends
of education in Massachusetts, Prof, (afterward Bishop,) Potter, Col.
Young, and other members of the committee, entered into corres-
pondence with him, on the subject. In reply to the first communica-
tion, he addressed numerous inquiries to the committee, concerning
the plan proposed for the organization and management of the school.

468 DAVID PERKINS PAGE.

Tliese questions were so pointed, and so well chosen, that Col. Young,
on hearing them, at once exclaimed, "That is the man we need," and
expressed himself entirely satisfied, without any further evidence. So
cautious, however, were the committee, that it was decided that, be«
fore closing the negotiation. Dr. Potter should visit Newburyport, and
have a personal interview with Mr. Page. He accordingly repaired
thither, called at Mr. Page's residence, and found him in his every-day
dress, and engaged in some mechanical work connected with the im-
provement of his dwelling. An interview of a single half hour so
fully prepossessed him with Mr. Page's personal bearing and conver-
sation, that he at once closed the negotiations with him, and secured
his services as principal of the New York State Normal School.

Mr. Page closed his connection with the Newburyport High School
about the middle of December, 1844 ; not without numberless demon-
strations of regret and affectionate regard on the part of his pupils
and friends. While on his way to Albany, he spent a night with Mr.
Mann, in Boston, and the new duties he was about to undertake, the
obstacles and difficulties, the opposition and misrepresentations he
would meet, and the importance and necessity of success, formed
themes of converse which occupied them till the early morning hours ;
in parting, Mr. Mann said to Mr. Page, as a veteran commander
might have said to a youthful officer going to lead a forlorn hope,
"Succeed or Die." The words sank deep into his heart; they were
adopted as his motto in the brief but brilliant career which followed ;
and once, on recovering from a dangerous illness, he reminded his
friend of his injunction, and added, "I thought I was about to fulfill
the last alternative." He arrived at Albany a few days before the
commencement of the " e.xperiment," as the normal school was des-
ignated, and found every thing in a chaotic state ; the rooms intend-
ed for its accommodation, yet unfinished ; there was no organization,
no apparatus, and indeed very few of the appliances necessary to a
successful beginning; while the few were hoping, though not without
fear, for its success, and the many were prophesying its utter failure.
From this chaos, the systematic mind of Mr. Page soon evolved or-
der ; full of hope, and confident of the success of the normal scjiool
system, himself, he infused energy and courage into the hearts of its
desponding friends, and caused its enemies to falter, as they saw how
all obstacles yielded to the fascination of his presence, or the power
of his will. The school commenced with twenty-five scholars, but ere
the close of its first term, the number had increased to one hundred.
At the commencement of the second terra, two hundred assembled
for instruction. From this time its course was onward ; every term

DAVID PERKINS PAGE. 4^^

increased its popularity ; and tlie accommodations provided for it,
large as they were, were soon crowded. For the first three years it
had to contend with numerous and unscrupulous- foes; some of whom
attacked the system, others its practical workings, others still, who
were strangers to his person, attacked the character of the principal
of the school. Meantime, Mr. Page labored indefatigably ; against
the assaults upon the organization, or its practical operations, he in-
terposed able, manly, and courteous defenses ; those which were lev-
eled at himself, he bore in silence ; but no man, whatever his position
in the state, and however bitter might have been his hostility to the
school, or to its principal, ever came within the magnetism of his
presence and influence, without being changed from an enemy to a
friend. Among the most decided, as well as the most conscientious
opposers of the normal school, was the lion. Silas Wright; indeed, in
his election as governor, the enemies of the school claimed a triumph,
and counted largely on his eminent abilities to aid them in putting it
down ; but a very few months'* residence in x\lbany converted this
man, of strong and determined will, into one of its sincerest friends.
During the vacations of the school, Mr. Page gave himself no rest ;
he visited different parts of the state, attended teachers' institutes, lec-
tured day after day, and, wherever he went, removed prejudices,
cleared up doubts, and won golden opinions. Every such visit drew
a large number of pupils to the school from the section visited the
ensuing term. The state superintendent was accustomed to say,
" that he needed only to look at the catalogue of the normal school
to tell where Mr. Page had spent his vacations."

Before four years had passed, the school had ceased to be an "ex-
periment ;" it was too firmly rooted in the hearts of the people to be
abandoned, and the opposition, which had at first been so formidable,
had dwindled into insignificance. But the toil requisite to accom-
plish this, had been too arduous for any constitution, however vigor-
ous, to endure. The autumnal term of 1847 found him cheerful
and hopeful as ever, but with waning physical strength ; he sought
(an unusual thing for him,) the aid of his colleagues in the peiform-
ance of duties he had usually undertaken alone, and at length con-
sented to take a vacation of a week or two during the Christmas
holidays. Alas ! the relaxation came too late ; the evening before he
was to leave, there was a meeting of the faculty at his residence ; he
was cheerful, but complained of slight indisposition, and retired early.
With the night, however, came violent fever, and restlessness, and by
the morning light, the physicians in attendance pronounced the dis-
ease pneumonia. At first the attack excited little alarm, but it soon

470 DAVID PERKINS PAGE.

became evident tliat Lis overtasked vital powers had not the abihij
to resist the violence of the disorder. On the fourth day, he ex-
pressed to a friend his conviction that he should not recover. The
severity of the disease soon increased, and, on the morning of Jan-
uary 1st, 1848, he passed away.

Six months before his death, he had, in company with one of his
colleagues, made a brief visit to his former home, at Newburyport ;
and, while visiting the beautiful cemetery there, he stopped suddenly
near a shady spot, and said, " here is where I desire to be buried."
The sad funeral train which bore the clay that once had been his
earthly habitation, from Albany to Newburyport, laid it sadly, yet
hopefully, in that quiet nook, to repose till the archangel's trumj)
shall be heard, and the dead be raised.

His life had been short, as men count time; he lacked six months
of completing his thirty-eighth year when he was summoned to the
better land ; but, if life be reckoned by what is accomplished, then
had his life been longer far than that of the antediluvian patriarchs.
Of the hundreds of teachers who were under his care at Albany,
there was not one who did not look up to him with admiration and
love ; not one who did not bear, to some extent, at least, the impress
of his character and influence ; and, it is doing no injustice to those
-who have so worthily succeeded him, to say that a very large part of
the progress which the Empire State has made in the cause of edu-
cation, during the past ten years, has been from the reflex influence
of his spirit and teachings upon those who were his pupils. Nor is
this influence confined to New York ; other states feel it ; even now,
men, who were trained under him at Albany, are occupying high po-
sitions in the cause of education in several of the Western States ;
and gifted women, who, under his teachings, were moved to conse-
crate themselves to the holy duty of training the young, are now at
tlie head of seminaries and female schools of high order, extending
his influence in widening circles over the boundless prairies of the
West.

Our brief narrative exhibits, we think, clearly what were the
marked traits of Mr. Page's character ; industry, perseverance, decis-
ion, energy, great executive abihty, ready tact, and conscientious ad-
herence to what he regarded as duty. But no language can describe
the fascination of his manner, the attraction of his presence, his skill
in what he was accustomed to call the drawing-out process, or his
tact in making all his knowledge available. His familiar lectures to
his pupils on sulijects connected with the teacher's life and duties,
could they be published, would form an invaluable hand-book for

DAVID PERKINS PAGE. 4^1

teachers. He possessed, beyond most men, the happy talent of al-
loays saying the right thing at the right time. In personal appearance,
Mr. Page was more than ordinarily prepossessing, — of good hight
and fine form, erect and dignified in manner, scrupulously neat in
person, and easy in address, he was a living model to his pupils, of
what a teacher should be. Aside from a few lectures, published at
different times,' to some of which we have already alluded, Mr. Page
left but one published work, — " The Theory and Practice of Teacliing^''
a work which has had a large circulation, and one which no teacher
can afford to be without.

As evidence of the estimation in which Mr. Page was held by the
distinguished teachers with whom he had been associated, we subjoin
a portion of the addresses made on the subject, at the meeting of the
American Institute of Instruction, on the announcement of his death.

Mr. Gideon F. Thayer said Mr. Page possessed a clear and logical mind, a
sound judgment, and remarkable powers of discrimination ; decision and firnmess
lor all occasions, unwavering integrity, and a fearless exercise of his own rights
without infringing on the rights or wounding the sensibilities of others. Dignity,
affability, and courtesy, were so beautifully blended in his manners, as to secure
respect and conciliate regard.

lie began to teach when quite young, and, struggling with difficulties, neither
few nor small, arose at last, through various importiint grades, to the highest rank
in his profession, — being, at the time of his death, the principal of the state nor-
mal school, in the capital of New York. And although he had to encounter dis-
trust and opposition, on assuming this extremely responsible charge, he, in a short
period of time, lived down these obstacles, which a blind prejudice against the in-
stitution had generated, and died, — if not without an enemy, — leaving a multitude
of devoted and sorrowing friends.

The secret of his success was found in the characteristics above mentioned, in
his thorough conscientiousness, his religious principle, his fidelity in duty, con-
nected with his self-faith, his diligence, and his indomitable will. He felt that he
could^ — he resolved, — he conquered !

He was a m;m of genuine modesty, and felt, to the day of his death, not as
though he had fully attained and were already perfect ; but constantly strove for
additional acquisitions to the very liberal stock which his industry and persever-
ance had secured to him.

The last time I had the pleasure of seeing him, was in November, 1847, when,
in a discussion upon the value of the study of the classics, he intimated that he
had become somewhat familiar with the Latin, but had not made much progress
in the Greek. "I intend, however," he added with enthusiasm, " to master that
too, within the coming year, if my life is spared." Alas that the condition could
not be fulfilled !

He thus filled up the measure of his life ; not only in t«rm-time, when the la-
bors of his school occupied his mind and called for all his energies ; but, in his
vacations, when his exhausted powers demanded relaxation, he was still in har-
ness, visiting schools, institutes, and conventions of teachers, throughout the
broad surface of the Empire State ; teaching, lecturing, and aiding those who
needed his efficient assistance in the great work of common school education.
To these supererogatory labors is to be attributed his early decline; he became
the victim of excessive mental and bodily toil 5 sacrificing his life to his insatiable
desire to benefit his race.

In debate, IVIr. Page was able, candid, and forcible. He was blessed with a no-
ble figure, a manly bearing, and great personal comeliness ; all which were light-
ed up and adorned by an intelligence that flashed from his fine eye and beamed
from the lineaments of his countenance ; while a voice of much compass and

472 DAVID PERKINS PAGE.

sweetness aflded its charm, and completed the outline of a most accomplished and
eloquent orator.

His labors among us in this Institute, were of the most valuable kind. Among
the lectures which he delivered to us, was one on the reciprocal duties of parents
and teachers, six thousand copies of which were printed and distributed over the
land ; doing good to all parties interested, and furnishing lessons of wisdom, which
will continue to bless the age, though their author has passed to his high reward.

This, and his larger work, will now be more dearl}' cherished, since his task on
earth is finished; and will, as we trust, be a means of inciting multitudes to en-
lightened and judicious action, in the great work of training the child for his
heavenly destiny.

In conclusion, the speaker said he would not enlarge on the character of the
deceased. It was too well known to need his feeble eulogium. It was written in
letters of living light on the walls of the various institutions, with which the de-
ceased had been connected. It was impressed in ineflaceable lines on the tablets
of the hearts of those who knew him, and especially of those whose early steps in
the path of knowledge and virtue he had led with parental solicitude, and of his
more recent pupils, prepared, by his instruction and wise counsel, for the duties of
the teacher's vocation.

He would, therefore, by the permission of the chair, offer, for the adoption of
the Institute, the following resolutions.

Resolved, That, in the demise of David P. Page, the cause of education has
lost an efficient friend, our fraternity an able and faithful coadjutor, and the com-
munity a member devoted to its highest and most sacred interests.

Resolved, That, while this Institute laments the bereavement of a warmly-es-
teemed and most woi-thy brother, its members will not cease to cherish the re-
membrance of his high aims, his spotless life, his reverence for religion, his singu-
lar devotion to the cause of man, and his consequent success and triumph over the
difficulties of his vocation.

Resolved, That we hold the life and character of Mr. Page as a valuable lega-
cy to the teacher, the citizen, and the philanthropist ; and feeling that, though
dead, he 3'et speaketh, we will endeavor to make his example a model for our im-
itation, as teachers, as men, and as citizens.

Resolved, That we deeply sympathize with the family of the deceased in this
irreparable loss, and that a copy of these resolves be transmitted to the afflicted
widow.

Resolved, That these resolutions be entered upon the records of the Institute.

Mr. Wm. n. Wells said, as a citizen of Newburyport, the field of Mr. Page's
labors for several years previous to his removal from Massachusetts, I beg leave to
offer a word in relation to the resolutions before us.

To the teachers of Essex County, the name of Mr. Page is a term of deep and
solemn interest. We loved Mr. Page sincerely while living ; and we now cherish
a most affectionate regard for his memory. He advanced rapidly in our midst,
from the humble charge of a district school, to such a degree of eminence and
reputation in his profession, that we were unable to retain his services among us.

In rising to eminence himself, Mr. Page did much to honor and elevate the
profession to which his life was devoted. Truly, a standard-bearer has fallen, and
every teacher in the land has lost a sincere and devoted friend. England will as
soon find another Thomas Arnold, as America another David P. Page.

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4H WILLIAM F. PHELPS.

to our pupil but the old district school and its repulsive associa-
tions.

Several ineffectual attempts were made by the parents of Mr.
Phelps to install him in a commercial position. For several yeai-s,
therefore, his time was divided between the farm in summer, and the
country district school in winter.

It was while a pupil in the latter, in the winter of 1838-39, that
his father was strongly impressed, by the schoolmaster, with the
belief that William was abundantly competent to keep school. Ac-
cordingly, after spending the summer of 1839 on the farm, he was
warned, in the autumn of that year, that he must " take a school "
during the following winter. The proposition struck him with amaze-
ment, and he objected and even protested ; but was obliged to obey.
It would not be worth while to describe his long-continued and dis-
heartening efforts " to get a school," nor to praise the distrust, and in
some cases, the contempt with which his application was frequently
received by narrow-souled trustees. After weeks of mortifying effort,
he at length found a school in a retired neighborhood. This school
was distinguished for its unprouiising antecedents. Its record was
one of battles fought between teachers and taught. The last of these
had resulted in the discomfiture of his immediate predecessor,
and his expulsion from the premises. This was, therefore, his first
school. The building was in a crossing, where four roads met, in a
low and forbidding spot. The only means of reaching the door was
through the carriage track in the middle of the roadway. The
school-house was, in dimensions, about eighteen by twenty-two feet.
It had an old worn-out stove in the center, and the forms, or writing
desks around the room. Surrounding the stove were seats made of
slabs, with holes at each end, the legs crossing each other, and pro-
truding at least two inches above the upper surface. These seats were
about two and a half feet high, and were intended for little children.
These arrangements, with an old rickety table, and a few shelves at
one end, for the children's clothing, completed the outfit of the school
in respect of furniture.

In these quarters, Mr. Phelps " kept a school," with sixty pupils of all
ages, sexes, grades, and conditions, for four months and a half. The
only notable characteristic of this school, was a tolerable degree of
order, secured by constant exertion, and by a sort of omnipresence on
the part of the teacher. A good feeling was maintained among both
pupils and parents, and the reputation of the schoolmaster was estab-
lished in that district for all time. But one incident of a somewhat
striking character occurred to relieve the monotony of the session.

WILLIAM F. PIIELP3. 4*75

Tliere was one family in the vicinity distinguished for the ungovern-
able character of its children. One of these children having one day
openly defied the authority of the teacher, chastisement was inflicted
upon the offender, in accordance with the theory and the practice of
those days, made and provided. As the parents had conscientious
scruples against juvenile obedience, these being abundantly manifested
in their home practice, much indignation was felt by them at the suc-
cess of the teacher in reducing the child to subjection, by means of
corj)oreal punishment. Accordingly, a complaint was made before a
justice, and a warrant was issued for Mr. P.'s arrest. He was held
for his appearance at court, to answer to the grave charge of assault
and battery.

Being quite young, and exceedingly sensitive, with no experience
in the terrors of the law, he concluded that his character was lost
irreparably. But the people of the district rallied to his support, re-
joiced at his conquest of one of the barbarians, and the master's confi-
dence was quickly restored.^ The complainant dared not go to the
grand jury, and the prosecution dropped. The afl^air was, on the
whole, a fortunate one for the neighborhood, and resulted in securing
a wholesome state of subordination among its young ungovernables.

An incident of a more amusing character occurred during this first
winter's experience in the life of a country schoolmaster. A certain
family, residing a mile and a half from the school-house, and sending
six children to the school, used to pack them all, young and old, into
what is called a jumper, which consists of a crockery crate mounted
upon a pair of runners, and in this plight they were sent to school.
The horse was stabled at a neighbor's, and at night the j)recious
freight was returned to the bosom of the family. It was the uniform
practice then, as now in many quarters, for the teacher " to board
around." It fell to Mr. Phelps' lot to be one of this lively sleighing
party at night, during a part of that winter. In the morning he was
obliged to make his way back to the school on foot, make the fire,
and sweep the school-room, in order to be ready for the day's work
by nine o'clock. We will permit him to describe his first visit to this
family, in his own sprightly language, as communicated some time
since, in a letter to the writer of this sketch. He says : —

" I never shall forget my first trip with this (the sleighing) party,
nor my first meal with the family. There were seven children in all,
and at home they were the most noisy and unmannerly set of urchins
on this side of that mythical land, classically denominated ' bedlam.*
Their voices, loud enough to startle the seven sleepers, could easily
be heard across the street, when the house was closed. The mother

476 WILLIAM F. PHELPS.

"was one of the most industrious and tidy houskcepers I have ever
met. With her sTirill voice sounding above the clatter and confusion
of the seven children, there was music such as would never soothe a
nervous man to rest.

"Arriving at the house, we found a warm dinner 'smoking upon
the table,' and it was not long before a general rush was made by the
children, on some macfic siirnal which I neither saw nor heard, for the
gustatory onslaught. Being a stranger and somewhat diffident, I
waited for an invitation to join in the work of destruction. At length
the *gude wife' spoke out in her highest key, and commanded me to
*come to the table.' A blessing was asked by the 'pater fnmilias,' in
a tone so low that I could scarcely distinguish a word, although sit-
ting next him on the right. The last word was not uttered, before
six forks went playing into a huge dish of potatoes, and thence,
'quick as thought,' into a plate of sliced ham, while the bread and
other accompaniments disappeared as the dew before the sun of a
summer morning. Here my modest reserve was again put to the
test ! I waited to be helped. Vain expectation ! Desolate prospect
for a half-starved schoolmaster ! But the mother soon came to my
relief, and in an instant, by a masterly stroke, she vanquished the ac-
cumulated bashfulness of seventeen years. Again, raising her voice
to its highest pitch, she exclaimed, 'come now, you must help your-
self. If 3'ou don't, you'll fare hard, for we haint got any manners
here !' The thing was done. I at once 'fell to,' and helped myself;
felt at home, and ever after, amidst all my experience in the barbar-
ous practice of 'boarding round,' managed to adapt myself to the
company I was in, and to keep my poor body several degrees above
the point of starvation."

The succeeding summer was spent in the Auburn Academy, then
imder the charge of a very efficient corps of teachers. For several
successive winters, Mr. Phelps taught district schools, often in retired
neighborhoods, and amid discouraging circumstances. His plan was
to teach in winter, and attend the academy in the summer, with a
view to prepare for college. His success was uniformly marked, and
he succeeded in securing the reputation of being one of the best
teachers in the country. He became gradually impressed with the
great utility of the blackboard, and his experience gave him more
and more insights into the nature of the teacher's work, and the true
dignity of his calling.

After an experience of five years as a teacher in the rural districts,
Mr. Phelps was called upon to take charge of a large public school
in the city of Auburn. This was a trying position. The buildings

WILLIAM F. PIIELP3. 477

were old, dilapidated, and inconvenient. There was but one room
for the accommodation of one hmidred and forty pupils of all grades.
While the furniture, and other needful appliances for instruction and
training, were of the most meager and unsatisftictory character.

While engaged in the conduct of this school, Mr. Phelps received
notice of his appointment, by the county board of supervisors, as one
of the first representatives to the New York State Normal School,
which was opened in December, 1844. His impressions, gathered
from the glowing accounts presented by the official descriptions of
foreign normal schools, their comprehensive courses of study, their
rigorous discipline, and their practical methods of training, were that
they were far superior to our colleges, and believing that his native
state, with her great resources and Hberal educational policy, would
not be found behind even the governments of Prussia, Switzerland,
and France, in the endowment of her normal school, he at once
gave up all thought of college, and enlisted in the new movement
with all the enthusiasm of a Columbus, on his first voyage of discovery.

On the 16th of December, 1844, he for the first time took leave of
his friends, and made his way to Albany, in order to be present at the
opening of the school, which occurred on the 18th. The emotion
which he felt on his first interview with such men as Samuel Young,
Alonzo Potter, David P. Page, and Francis Dwight, was one of the
greatest veneration. Noble men ! They have all, with one excep-
tion, passed away, having sealed with their lives their devotion to the
great cause of universal education and of human progress.

The school was opened, according to notice, on the 18th. Col.
Young, who was then state superintendent of common schools, and
chairman of the executive committee of the normal school, gave a
lucid and able exposition of its nature and .objects. Immediately
thereafter, the exercises of the institution were commenced by Mr.
Page, in that quiet and unpretending style so eminently his charac-
teristic. There were but twenty-nine pupils present during the fii-st
day, and, amid the din of the carpenter's hammer and saw (for the
apartments were yet incomplete,) the great work was commenced.

Mr. Page and his associates were all novices in the conduct of
normal schools, and were obliged to " feel their way," as it were,
amid many difficulties, and wholly unaided by the light of experience
in the work of training teachers. The first six weeks were spent in a
cursory review of the elementary branches of study. These subjects,
treated as they were by the teachers, soon became dry and distasteful
to those who had deemed themselves proficients in them long ago.
Accordingly a change of programme was agreed upon, and all those

478 WILLIAM F. PUELPS.

who, durinfr tlie six weeks, had shown themselves qiialifiecl, wore
allowed to advance to higher studies. A class in algebra and physi-
ology wa§ accordingly formed ; the former under the able mathemati-
cian, Perkins, and the latter under the leadership of Mr. Page himself.
In this manner, the exercises of the first term of twelve weeks were
conducted. Large accessions were constantly made to the number of
the pupils, so that, before the end of the term, the school had in-
creased to nearly one hundred pupils.

Thus far, the work had been preliminary and preparatory. None
of those striking processes and results, so graphically described as
characterizing the normal schools of Europe, had been realized. Mr.
P's hopes were disappointed, and he regretted his choice. But, hav-
ing unbounded confidence in Mr. Page, and trusting to time to cor-
rect all the errors, supply all the defects, and develop all the excellen-
cies he had expected, he determined to hold fiist and continue his
normal life. The second term opened in May, 1855. With this
term, the experimental school or school of practice was to be inau-
gurated, as one of the distinctive features of the normal school sys-
tem for the training of teachers.

Having, by means of several long conversations with Mr. Page,
upon the subject of teaching, as well as by intercourse with him in
the capacity of a student, formed an intimate and favorable acquaint-
ance with him, Mr. Phelps was designated by him as the person to
organize this experimental school. He had thus the advantage of
making upon the children the first impression, which proved to be a
very pleasant and happy one. A strong attachment at once sprung
up between the teacher and the pupils. This feature of the normal
school establishment promised, in the outset, to be a highly success-
ful one. Mr. P's terra -of service was fixed at two weeks. But be-
fore the expiration of this period, Mr. Page was taken seriously ill,
and he was desired by the officers of the school to continue in cliarge
of it until the principal's recovery. This detained him for six or
eight weeks, and served to strengthen the ties between him and the
children under his charge. At length, on the recovery of Mr. Page,
he was allowed to return to his class, and the plan of rotating the
t?achers of this department was set in operation. But the change
was injurious. The children no sooner became acquainted with a new
teacher than he left them and a stranger was substituted. This led
to difficulty and disorder. There was no uniformity either in the
discipline or the instruction, and the experimental school became an
object of dread to the pupil teachers, of aversion to the children, and
of vexation and trouble to the principal, whose other duties allowed
him but little opportunity to attend to its details.

WILLIAM F. PHELPS. 479

A change of plan was accordingly determinod upon, and it was
proposed to place a permanent teacher or superintendent in charge of
this department, subject to the advice and counsel of the principal of
the normal school. It should be his duty to prescribe such regula-
tions as might be necessary for the government of the school, to ad-
vise and direct the pupil-teachers during their term of practice, to
notice and criticise their methods of teaching, to preserve order and
uniformity in the school, and to train the pupil-teachers in the princi-
j^les of their future caUing. This plan was to go into effect at the
commencement of. the fall term of 1845. After mature deliberation,
Mr. Phelps was chosen for this difficult, uninviting, and responsible
position. He accepted it with reluctance, and entered upon its duties
in October.

The plan succeeded. By it the school was redeemed from failure.
Order was brought out of confusion, the children w^ere happy, the
pupil-teachers were again reassured, because pleasantly and profitably
employed. Before the end of the term, so popular and successful
was this department, that its capacity was doubled, and the tuition,
which had been previously free, was fixed at twenty dollars per an-
num. So effective was the discipline and the instruction, as to exert
a powerful influence upon the normal school, its methods, and its
spirit. It served the purpose of a school of observation as well as
practice, and many sound views of the nature and objects of educa-
tion were here imbibed and carried forth into the schools of the
state.

The constantly rotating teachers could not fail to produce con-
stantly varying results. While one would secure the respect and
affection of the children, and good order as a consequence, another
would in a single day undo the good work of an entire week. These
phenomena could not fail to provoke inquiry into their causes. The
labors of different teachers were compared, their results were noted,
and, after long observation, general principles were deduced and classi-
fied. These principles were at length produced in the form of lec-
tures to the pupil-teachers, to their manifest interest and profit. Mr.
Phelps occupied this position, trying but useful as it was, until the
spring of 1852. Constant application to his work, with a view to
master the difficulties which beset him, and to overcome all obstacles,
produced at this time a serious derangement of his health. For one
year he was a great sufferer from hemorrhage of the lungs and de-
bility. He remained at his post, however, until even these physical
weaknesses were overcome, and until the principles for the conduct
of his " peculiar institution " were well established and embodied in
its organization.

480 WILLIAM F. rilELPS.

Finally, after having bad some six hundred pupil-teachers pass in
review before him, and after having labored faithfully to infuse into
them his o^Yn life-giving spirit, he rested from these labors, and spent
more than two years in travel and in the pursuits of business. Dur-
ing this time, his health became firmly established and his knowledge
of men and things was greatly increased, by intercourse with the
world.

Not long before the close of his connection with the experimental
school at Albany, the degree of Master of Arts was conferred upon
him by the trustees of Union College, at Schenectady.

In the summer of 1855, the first board of trustees of the New
Jersey State Normal School, appointed under the legislative act of
the preceding winter, elected Prof. Phelps, by a unanimous vote,
principal of the new normal school, and called him at once to counsel
with them in relation to their duties. Finding his qualifications ade-
quate, they soon confidently committed the enterprise almost wholly
to his management, irajDosing little or no restraint upon him except
that which arose necessarily from the limited pecuniary resources at
their disposal. Prof Phelps adapted himself, with characteristic
facility, to the new circumstances in which he was placed. He threw
all his energies into the new enterprise, surmounted with skill the vari-
ous difficulties with which the whole movement in New Jersey was at
first embarrassed, and succeeded in a short time in opening the normal
school under the happiest auspices, and with a very desirable degree
of popular favor. It was not long before, under his management,
the institution began to attract great attention, and visitors from the
state and from abroad began to flock in to witness the arrangements,
and the modes of discipline and instruction. It is remarkable that very
few, even of those who were at first most prejudiced, ever visited the
school without leaving it as friends. Indeed, hundreds of those who
had originally been hostile to the movement, became the warmest
friends and advocates of the school. When the new building was
opened, and the requisite facilities were obtained for exhibiting the
plan to the best advantage, it became a resort for multitudes ; and,
after the first public examination, the reputation of the principal and
the school was established. Prof Phelps has manifested a devotion
to the interests of the school, and an ability in the whole and the
detail of its management, which have already placed him in the front
rank of the practical educators of our country, as one of the most
efficient and intelligent leaders of the great educational movement in
America.

JOHN S. HART,

PRINCIPAL OF THE rniLADELPHIA HIGH SCHOOL.

The name of this gentleman is so identified with the history of the
Philadelphia High School, one of the most successful of its class on
the American Continent, that a brief sketch of his life has been
repeatedly called for by the readers of this Journal.

John Seely Hart* was born on the 28th of January, 1810, in
Stockbridge township, Berkshire county, Massachusetts, on the bank
of the Housatonic, at a point where there has since sprung up the
enterprising little manufacturiDg village of Glendale.

When John was two years old, the family with several of their neigh-
bors emigrated into what was then an unbroken wilderness, in the upper
part of Luzerne county, Pennsylvania. The settlement made by these
Massachusetts families, in 1812, was in Providence township, on the
Lackawanna river, two miles north of where the thriving town of
Scranton now stands. The subject of this memoir continued to reside
in Providence until he was thirteen years old. His earliest recollections
are of a log-house, in the midst of a small clearing, skirted on all sides
with the primeval forest. The life of a pioneer, in the back woods, though
furnishing doubtless abundant materials for romantic adventure, is yet
essentially a life of hardship. Children especially, in such circum-
stances, often suffer severe privations. The boyhood of Mr. Hart has
been described by himself as " one continued sorrow.^*

In 1823, his father removed with the family to Laurel Run, the
seat of a small mill-privilege in a wild dell about two miles from
Wilkesbarre. John was then thirteen years old. He was a pale,
sickly boy, with delicate features, and a general appearance of extreme
physical debility. His education, so far as book-knowledge was con-

* Mr. Hart is a lineal descendant, in the eighth generation, from Stephen Hart, who came from
Braintree, Essex county, England, in 1630, with the company that settled in Braintree, Massa-
chusetts. This Stephen Hart was one of the fifty-four settlers of Cambridge, who organized a
church there, and iflvited the Rev. Thomas Hooker from England to be their pastor. Stephen
Hart went thence in 1635, with Mr. Hooker and several others, to Hartford, Connecticut, and was
one of the original proprietors of that place. Thence, in 1640, he removed with others into a
valley a few miles west of Hartford, and formed a settlement called Farmington, where direct
descendants of the family in the male lino have continued to reside ever since, upon a part of the
original homestead. _

iiiQ

482 JOHN S. HART.

cerned, was limited to an acquaintance with Webster's Spelling Book,
Murray's English Reader, Daboll's Arithmetic as far as the Rule of
Three, and the Bible.

Two things occurred about this time, which entirely changed his
career in life. The first was the establishment of a Sunday school in
the neighborhood. Two pious ladies from Philadelphia, who were
spending the summer with their friends in Wilkesbarre, in connexion
with a lady of the village, after exploring the wild region, known as
" Laurel Run/' and finding it sadly destitute of religious privileges,
resolved to establish there a Sunday school. As there was no school-
house, nor place of worship of any kind in the neighborhood, nor any
dwelling-house at all suited to the purpose, it was determined to hold
the school in a barn. The whole apparatus of this school consisted of
a few boards laid across old barrels and boxes, to serve as benches, a
few tracts and books which the ladies brought with them in a satchel,
and the blue and red " tickets" then given as premiums for attend-
ance. John was present the first day the school was opened, and is
believed not to have been absent a day, so long as it was continued.
He was assigned to the care of one of the ladies from Philadelphia,
Miss Mary R. Gardiner. Besides possessing a thoroughly religious
spirit, Miss Gardiner was a lady of high culture, whose gentleness
and refinement of manners, and scnipulous neatness of person, con-
trasted strangely with the coarse materials with which she was sur-
rounded. To this lady the boy was indebted, not only for the religious
impulse, which resulted in his becoming a Christian, but for the con-
ception of a higher style of humanity than any with which he had
before come in contact. There was something within him which
responded at once to what he saw so beautifully exemplified in this
Christian lady, and which he thenceforth longed with an unquench-
able desire to have accomplished in himself.

The other occurrence, that aff'ected materially his subsequent career,
was a dangerous and protracted illness. He was attacked with a lame-
ness in the left knee, which proved to be the formidable disease known
as " white swelling." The disease was cured, but by a painful and
tedious process, and with a very narrow escape, on his part, from being
lamed for life. He emerged from this illness more delicate and feeble
apparently than ever. So incapable was he judged to be, for any
employment requiring physical strength, that it was determined by his
friends to seek for him, by some means, such additions to his stock of
knowledge, that he might be able to gain a livelihood as the teacher of
Sk country school.

Sickness, and the increased physical debility which followed it, and

JOHN S. HART. 483

which threatened to become permanent, thus changed his destination
from that of a mechanic, to that of a teacher. The Sunday school in
the barn, and the generous impulses there awakened, changed it still
further from that of a country schoolmaster, to the position of extended
usefulness to which he has since risen.

When between thirteen and fourteen years of age, he took his first
lessons in what he considered the advanced sciences of Geography and
English Grammai, the very names of which were till then unknown to
him. So extraordinary, however, was the progress which he made in
these studies, that the attention of some of the good people of Wilkes-
barre was attracted towards him, and by degrees he was encouraged
to hope that in some way he might obtain a regular college education.
At length, in his fifteenth year, he entered the Wilkesbarre Academy
and began the study of Latin. Some one gave him a Latin Grammar.
Another lent him a Dictionary. He bought a Virgil with money obtained
by the sale of straw hats which he had plaited with his own hands.
Living in a home where even candles were a luxury, he read the story
of Dido and ^neas, in the Virgil thus procured, by the light of pine-
knots picked up in the woods on his way home from school. The
whole of the JEneid was read by him in this manner, he himself while
thus studying being obliged to lie at full length on the floor in order
to get the proper benefit of the light upon the hearth.

When he first began to attend the academy, he lived at home and
walked to school a distance of about two miles. Subsequently an
arrangement was made by which he paid for his board in the family
of a clergyman in the village, by doing sundry jobs of work mornings
and evenings. The amount of work, which this sickly but stout-
hearted boy undertook, in order to pay for his board while preparing
for college, would hardly be believed. The particulars, as communi-
cated to the writer of this article, have satisfied him that they were
not much less in amount and laboriousness than the full work of a
regular day laborer. Besides this, during the school hours, through-
out his whole course in the academy, he paid for his tuition by assist-
ing the master in hearing the lessons of the younger classes.

After a life of three years thus spent, he was found to be not only
thoroughly fitted for college, but ruddy and glowing with health, his
lameness all gone, and his whole man, physical, intellectual, and moral,
invigorated by the stern but wholesome ordeal through which he had

Mr. Hart entered the Sophomore class of Princeton College in the
fall of 1827, and graduated in the fall of 1830, with the Valedictory
oration and the first honor in the class for o-eneral scholarship.

484 JOHN S. HART.

About the time of completing his college course, IMr. Hart received
an invitation to be the Principal of the Natchez Academy, in Missis-
Bippi. He entered upon the duties of this position in October, 1830,
and remained there one academic year. Having in view, however,
the preaching of the Gospel, as his ultimate profession, he returned to
Princeton in the fall of 1831, and entered the Theological Seminary
of that place. About a year after beginning his theological studies,
he received the appointment of tutor in the college. The duties of
the tutorship were discharged in connexion with attendance upon the
theological classes, for the next two years.

In 1834, he was appointed adjunct Professor of Ancient Languages.
A large part of the instruction of the college classes in Greek now
devolved upon him, and he gave himself to the task with renewed
zeal. His ardor in prosecuting the studies of his department commu-
nicated itself to the students, many of whom, besides learning the stated
lessons of the day, attended voluntarily at extra hours to the prelec-
tions of the professor upon authors not included in the college course.
He read in this way, to a select class of students, a large portion of
the Attic Orators, and of the Dialogues of Plato. One of the changes
in the classical course of the college, which Professor Hart was mainly
instrumental in bringing about, was the substitution of entire treatises,
such as the " Memorabilia," the " Anabasis," the " Oration on the
Crown," &c., in the place of the fragmentary Collectanea formerly
in usci

While engaging with so much zeal in the prosecution of the Greek,
Mr. Hart gave considerable attention also to Oriental studies, particu-
larly to the Hebrew, and the Arabic, the latter of which he studied
privately under the tuition of Professor J. Addison Alexander.

Mr. Hart was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of New Bruns-
wick, in the fall of 1835, and during the ensuing season he preached
occasionally in the College Chapel and elsewhere in the neighborhood.
It was his intention in due time to be ordained as a minister of the
Gospel, and to remain p6rmanently connected with the college. But
in the following year, 1836, an event occurred which changed entirely
his plans. This was an offer of the proprietorship and control of the
Edgehill School in the neighborhood of Princeton. In the manage-
ment of this institution, which was exclusively a boarding school for
boys, Mr. Hart thought he saw a jBeld of special usefulness, and with
the advice of some of his friends he embarked in the undertaking.
It was obvious to him, on entering upon a work of so engrossing a
character, that it would preclude the idea of his entering upon the
ministry. He accordingly abandoned the purpose before going to

JOHN s. nART. 485

Edgehill, and subsequently communicated this intention to the Pres-
bytery, and returned to them his license, with a request that it should
be formally cancelled, which was done. The Edgehill School, under
Mr. Hart's management, became widely known, and was very success-
ful. He continued in the management of it five years.

In September, 1842, he was elected Principal of the Central High
School of Philadelphia, in the place of Professor A. D. Bache, the
present Superintendent of the United States Coast Survey. The
High School had been established in October, 1838, with four Pro-
fessors, equal and co-ordinate, but without any Principal or official
head. In consequence of this radical defect in its organization, the
school was practically a failure. After a year and a half of precarious
and doubtful existence, the institution was remodelled. Professor
Bache became its first Principal, and continued in this office two years
and a half, namely, from January, 1840, to July, 1842. Mr. Hart
has been Principal since that time, or for sixteen out of the twenty
years of its existence. This, then, has been his chief work. In this
school alone, he has had the charge of no less than 3792 students, of
ages ranging from 12 to 21 ; and no one who has ever been much in
the school, or known anything of Mr. Hart's habits of mind, and the
energy with which he pursues any favorite object, can doubt that during
these sixteen years of active exertion, in his own chosen field of labor,
he has left an impress upon his generation which will not soon pass
away.

A leading idea with Mr. Hart, in regard to teaching, has ever been
the indispensable necessity of the teacher's rousing the pupil himself
to decided co-operation and activity, in order to his making acquisi-
tions of permanent value. This idea he developed, soon after his acces-
sion to the High School, in a public Lecture to the Controllers and
Teachers of the Public Schools, on the subject of ^^ Attention." The
main point which he makes in this lecture, is thus stated ; —

" The subject of study, in the case of young persons, is often of
less importance than the manner of study. I have been led sometimes
to doubt the value of many of the inventions for facilitating the acqui-
sition of knowledge by children. That, the acquisition of which costs
little labor, will not be likely to make a deep impression, nor to remain
long upon the memory. It is by labor that the mind is strengthened
and grows. And while care should be taken not to overtask it, by
exertions beyond its strength, yet mere occupation of the mind with
useful and proper objects, is not the precise aim of education. The
educator aims not to make learned boys but able men. To do this he
must tax their powers. He must rouse them to manly exertion. He

486 JOHN S. HART.

must lead them to think, to discriminate, to digest what they receive,
to work. There must every day be the glow of hard work — not that
exhaustion and languor which arise from too protracted confinement to
study — which have the same debilitating effect upon the mind that
a similar process has upon the body — but vigorous and hardy labor,
such as wakens the mind from its lethargy, summons up the resolu-
tion and will, and puts the whole internal man into a state of deter-
mined and positive activity. The boy, in such a case, feels that he
is at work. He feels, too, that he is gaining something more than
knowledge. He is gaining power. He is increasing in strength.
He grapples successfully to-day, with a difficulty that would have
staggered him yesterday. Every hour so spent, is an hour of
conquest. There is no mistaking this process — and no matter what
the subject of study, the intellectual development which it gives, is"
worth infinitely more than all that vague floating kind of knowledge,
sometimes sought after, which seems to be imbibed from the atmo-
sphere of the school-room, as it certainly evaporates the moment a boy
enters the atmosphere of men, and of active life.''

Mr. Hart's own teaching has ever been in accordance with these
views; and his class-room, whenever he is engaged directly in giving
instruction, is a scene of extraordinary activity.

But the chief function of the Principal of such an institution as the
High School, is not teaching. His business is rather to guide and
direct the energies of others, so as out of different and sometimes
discordant materials, to produce harmonious practical results. The
best commentary upon Professor Hart's administrative abilities is to
be found in the actual workings of the High School during the sixteen
years of his presidency. The annual reports of the Controllers and the
frequent descriptions of the school by intelligent foreigners, who have
visited it, have made its character in this respect a matter of history.
It is universally regarded as a model of efficiency.

A very striking testimony to Mr. Hart's ability as an administrator,
was given by his associates, a few years after his accession to the prin-
cipalship. The question of the presidency of the Girard College being
then under discussion, one of the directors of that institution judging
that the Professors of the High School would have a better opportunity
than any persons else for being acquainted with Mr. Hart's executive
ability, addressed to them a letter with a view of obtaining from them
an expression of their opinion. The director received in reply a joint
letter, signed by all the Professors, from which the following extracts
are made : —

" The intimate relations which have existed between ourselves and

JOHN s. iiaht. 487

Mr. Hart, during the live years he has been Principal of the High
School, have given us, as you intimate, peculiar opportunities for be-
coming acquainted with his qualifications. The frequent interchange
of views consequent upon our ofiicial connexion, and the constant inter-
mingling of action during five or six hours of every day, could not but
result in a definite and settled opinion on the point which has been
named. This opinion it would be easy for us to express in a few com-
prehensive terms. But as such general expressions are extremely
liable to be misunderstood, we have deemed it best, even at considera-
ble sacrifice of brevity, to state some of the particulars upon which our
general opinion is founded.

** By the organization of the High School, the Principal is charged
with the whole government of the institution. Every case of discipline,
great or small, passes through his hands. Hence, any inefficiency in
his administration, would immediately be felt by every Professor. On
this point, therefore, we cannot be mistaken, and as all of us have been
conversant with other institutions, prior to our connexion with the
High School, we feel authorized to speak comparatively, as well as
absolutely : — and we are free to say, that we have never known an
institution of learninor, in which the Professors and Assistants were
sustained in the discharge of their duties, with so much certainty, and
at the same time with such a careful regard to the rights and interests
of the pupils, or where discipline was administered with so little parade,
and so much real efficiency.

^' There are in the High School, besides the Principal, eight Pro-
fessors and two Assistants. Among so many, there must necessarily be
great diversity of views and feelings. In addition to this, several of
us are older than Mr. Hart, and some of us were his competitors for
the situation which he now holds. We are yet free to say, that from
the date of his appointment to the present time, such a thing as jarring
or dissension, among the Professors, or between any of them and the
Principal, has been unknown. Such entire harmony of action and
feeling, for so long a time, and in the management of so important an
interest as the government of nearly five hundred boys, averaging more
than sixteen years of age, could not be the work of chance. AVe cannot
err in seeing its main cause, in the conciliatory manners, the evenness
of temper, the mingled firmness and moderation, which characterize the
present Principal.

'^ Another point in the management of the school, which we have often
had occasion to remark, is the rar^ facility of Mr. Hart, in simplifying
what would otherwise be complex, in the details of administration. It
is owing mainly to his remarkable powers in this respect, that without

488 JOHN S. HART.

any increase in the number of Professors, and with an actual diminution
in tbe annual expenses of the school, he has been enabled gradually to
increase the number of pupils, to nearly double what it was at the time
of his accession to the priucipalship, and to one-third more than it
was originally supposed the school building could ever accommodate.

" In connexion with this, we would call attention to the steadiness
and uniformity, which mark the movements of the institution. It
argues, we think, in the Principal of the High School, no small degree
of sagacity in the formation of plans, and of judicious adaptation of
means to their accomplishment, that a machine so complex in its move-
ments, and containing so many elements likely to produce discrepancy
and confusion, should yet proceed from term to term, quietly working
out fixed moral results, with all the certainty and precision of a mathe-
matical problem.

" We should do manifest injustice to Mr. Hart did we not name
with some degree of emphasis, his extraordinary capacity for labor.
In this we refer, as well to the amount of time which he is accustomed
to give daily to the business of the school, as to the amount of work
which he can despatch in a given time. Both of these have often
excited our surprise. Nothing but an iron will, and great physical
powers of endurance, could carry a person through the exhausting
labors, which we have seen Mr. Hart perform, during the past five
years.

" But the feature in the character of Mr. Hart, which perhaps more
frequently than any other has arrested our attention, is his fertility of
resources, in cases of emergency. However excellent may be the
plans for instruction and government of any large institution, yet, as
in its actual operation, it is at every step dependent on voluntary
agency, it is constantly liable to interruption and aberration. It is
necessarily a problem, the elements of which change with every hour.
Every day some new plan must be devised, some old plan must be
modified, to suit a new set of circumstances. It is in these cases that
Mr. Hart's talent for administration shows itself most decisively, to
those who are, like ourselves, conversant with the internal economy
of the school. In all the trying exigencies in which we have seen him
placed, we may truly say, we have never seen him baffled, and rarely
at a loss. We have not indeed known which to admire most, his
fertility in the invention of means, or his instinctive sagacity in the
adoption of those, that in the end proved to be successful.

" We have said nothing of his literary and scientific attainments.
His character in these respects is so well known, that we have not
deemed it necessary. The only point, which we would note in regard

JOHN S. HART. 489

to tliem, is their varied character. In philology, in mathematicss, in
intellectual science, in civil histoiy, in general literature, we have
found him equally and familiarly at home. This varied character of
his attainments, combined with great soundness of judgment, and a
remarkable balance of all the intellectual faculties, fits him peculiarly
for the general superintendence of an institution intended to embrace
various departments of learning and science.''

Mr. Hart's position as Principal of the High School brought him
into intimate connexion with the Controllers and Directors, as well as
with the teachers of the lower public schools. The suggestions which
he has made, from time to time, have contributed largely, not cfnly to
the gradual perfecting of the plan of the High School, but also to the
general improvement of the whole system of popular education in that
city.

His semi-annual examinations of the candidates for admission to the
High School, are really a most searching scrutiny into the qualifications
of the teachers. Besides this, he is often required to examine directly
competitors for vacant situations in the public schools. The facts
brought to light in these inquiries early convinced him that many of the
teachers, while possessed of good abilities, were sadly deficient in many
points of scholarship which were of vital importance. With a view to
ascertain how far they were disposed to embrace oppprtunities for im-
provement, he undertook in the early part of 1844 to instruct a class
of female teachers in the rudiments of Latin on Saturday afternoons.
Beginning with about a dozen, and without any public notification, the
class increased before the winter was over, to more than a hundred.
Encouraged by this success, he then proposed to the Controllers that
the whole of Saturday morning should be given up to the improvement
of the teachers, and that they should be regularly organized into classes
for this purpose, to be instructed by the Professors of the High School.
The suggestion was approved, and the plan continued in successful
operation for several years.

There can be no doubt that these Saturday classes gave a decided
and healthy impulse to the teachers of the lower schools. They led
also, by a natural and easy transition, to the establishment of the pre-
sent efficient Normal School.

In promoting the interests of these classes, and in seeking to make
them attractive, Mr. Hart labored with most untiring zeal. Besides
taking a regular part in the instraction, in the same manner as the
other professors, he prepared every week a written lecture of an hour's
length, which was delivered to all the classes in a body at the close of the
other exercises. The first course of lectures was on the " History of the

490 JOHN S. HART.

Public Schools of Philadelphia." In the preparation of this history,
he not only explored all the annual reports, and other printed docu-
ments of the Controllers, from the year 1818 down to the date when
he was writing, but actually read the entire original records of the Con-
trollers, and of the various sectional Boards of Directors, covering more
than six thousand pages of folio manuscript, noting each fact as he
proceeded, item by item, digesting the information gradually into con-
venient tabular forms and chronological tables, and afterwards writing
out the results in a continuous stream of narrative. The history, thus
prepared for the purpose of creating in the minds of the teachers a
local interest in their work, would make a good sized octavo volume.

After completing these lectures, Mr. Hart projected another course,
still more extended and laborious, on the "History of the English Lan-
guage and Literature." The admirable paper on the " English Lan-
guage," which is to be found in the August number of this Journal for
1855, formed originally one of the lectures of this course. As an evi-
dence of the thoroughness with which Mr. Hart entered into the sub-
ject, it may be remarked that these lectures, before they were sus-
pended, had already reached the fiftieth, and he had then only come
down chronologically as far as Shakspeare. Some of these lectures,
as those on Chaucer and Spenser, were repeated in subsequent years
to the regular classes of the High School, and elsewhere, and those on
Spenser, twelve in number, were published in 1847, forming a large
octavo volume of over five hundred pages.

One of the practical difficulties that beset the path of the school
in the earlier stages of its history, grew out of its very prosperity.
As this difficulty is one common to all similar institutions in large
cities, it may be well to dwell upon it a little, and to notice briefly
in what manner the problem has been solved in the case of the Phila-
delphia High School.

The school had grown from 63 pupils and four professors, the ori-
ginal number, to 500 pupils and twelve professors, which was more by
1?40 at least, than the building then occupied could suitably accom-
modate. As the population was steadily advancing, and the public
echools constantly gaining in favor, thereby increasing the applicants
for admission to the High School in a two-fold ratio, the question
would ever and anon arise, what must be the issue of this state of
things ? To deny admission to those who are truly and fairly quali-
fied must create dissatisfaction, and end in settled opposition. To
establish additional High Schools, from time to time, would, besides
its extreme expensiveness, break up the beautiful and harmonious
uniformity and homogeneity of the whole system of public schools.

JOHN S. HART. 491

In view of this state of things, Mr. Hart, in his Annual Report, Sep-
tember, 1846, made the following suggestion : —

'' This gradual filling up of the school, suggests a serious question
for the consideration of the Controllers. The time must come, if it has
not already come, when the limit will have been reached, beyond which
it will be impossible to increase the number belonging to the school.
The school system will continue to grow, both by the natural growth
of the population, and by the continued improvement of the lower
schools. The time must come, therefore, when there will be more
candidates qualified for the High School, than can be admitted on the
present basis. To meet this difficulty, it was at one time feared that
it would be necessary to establish additional High Schools. Experi-
ence, however, seems now clearly to indicate that such a result is not,
and can never be necessary. All that is necessary, is to prescribe
additional studies as a qualification for admission. There are several
studies pursued during the first year in the High School, which might
be pursued to quite as much advantage in the last year of the gram-
mar schools. The removal of these from the list of studies pursued
in the High School, to the list of those required for admission, so far
from being an injury, would possess obvious advantages. It would
benefit the High School, by enabling the professors to add new studies
to the course, or to carry farther some of those already adopted. It
would benefit still more the grammar schools, by introducing there
some very important branches of study, which are now virtually
excluded from them. Reading, spelling, and writing, grammar, geo-
graphy, and arithmetic, form undoubtedly the basis of a good educa-
tion. Before the establishment of the High School, even these studies
were not taught adequately in the grammar schools. Some of them,
as it appears from the records of the Controllers, were not taught at
all to any extent. A very great change has taken place in this respect
during the past eight years. The second, third, and in some cases,
even the fourth division of a grammar school now, are quite equal in
intellectual advancement to the first division, in 1838. In consequence
of the desire to gain admission to the High School, and the necessity,
in order to this, of the pupils being proficient in grammar, geogra-
phy, and arithmetic, it has come to pass, that these studies are now
taught in our public schools as well, probably, as in any other schools
in the world of the same extent. But there are many other studies,
which, if not equally important with these, are still highly desirable.
Every pupil of the public schools should, if practicable, be made ac-
quainted with the History of the United States, and the general prin-

492 JOHN S. HART.

ciples of tlie National Government. These branches might be taught
in the grammar schools, just as well as in the High School."

In consequence of this suggestion, the Controllers adopted a reso-
lution, adding the ^^ History of the United States'' to the list of studies
required for admission to the High School.

Finding that the measure adopted was still inadequate to the exi-
gency, Mr. Hart, again, in. September, 1849, brought the whole sub-
ject before the attention of the Controllers in a special report, from
which the following extracts are made : —

" In several of my annual reports, and particularly in that for the
year ending July, 1846 (pp. 86-88), I have called the attention of
the Controllers to the necessity of providing in some way for the steady
increase in the number of applicants for admission to the High School.
This increase is caused by the natural growth of the popuhition, the
improvement of the lower schools, and the constant extension of the
whole school system.

" When the High School was opened in 1838, the number of pupils
in all the lower schools was less than 18,000. It is now more than
40,000. From a careful examination of the early records of the Con-
trollers, and also those of the sectional Boards, I believe the lower
schools have advanced in other respects quite as much as in numbers.
The second, and in some cases even the third divisions of the grammar
schools are now as far advanced intellectually, as the first divisions
were before the organization of the High School. Yet our terms of
admission have remained nominally unchanged. I say nominal^, for
there has been of necessity a real change. While we continue to exa-
mine on the same branches that we did in 1838, we ask questions that
are more difficult, requiring on the part of the applicants a much more
extended study of those branches.

^' It will be readily perceived from the nature of these branches,
that there is a certain point beyond which the course heretofore pur-
sued in our examinations ceases to be profitable or proper. Arithmetic
beyond a certain point runs by a natural sequence into algebra and
mensuration, the latter consisting mainly of the practical applications
of arithmetic to mechanical and commercial business, the former being
only arithmetic generalized. The study of the elements of algebra
and mensuration is in fact, as every well informed teacher knows, the
best and shortest method of perfecting a pupil in arithmetic. After
learning thoroughly the easier parts of arithmetic, the most expeditious
way of learning its higher problems is, not to study them alone, but
to study them in connexion with the elements of algebra and mensura-
tion. The elements of algebra and mensuration, and the whole of

JOHN S. HART. 493

arithmetic, may tlius be acquired together, in the same time that arith-
metic alone would require if pursued by itself to completion. There
is in like manner a natural, though not quite so intimate a connexion
between writing and drawing, grammar and rhetoric, geography and
history, the history of the United States and its constitution and form
of government.

" The removal of some of these simpler studies from the list of those
pursued in the High School to the list of those required for admission,
seems therefore to be desirable in itself, as well as demanded by the
increasing number of applicants. Such a change would benefit the
High School, by enabling us to add new studies to the course or to
pursue farther some of those already adopted. It would benefit still
more the grammar schools by introducing there some very important
branches now virtually excluded from them.

*' Changes of the kind contemplated should be gradual and prospec-
tive in their provisions. To add suddenly a large number of studies
to the requirements for admission, would tend to discourage the gram-
mar schools by overloading them with duty, and to embarrass the
High School by causing a temporary deficiency in the number of
applicants. The Controllers during the last school year made a useful
beginning by a resolution requiring that in all examinations subse-
quent to July, 1849, the candidates be examined in the History of
the United States, in addition to the studies heretofore required.
This addition I am sure will not be sufiicient. I would therefore
respectfully suggest the adoption by the Controllers of a resolution
requiring candidates for the High School to be examined, in February
next and at all subsequent admissions, in the Constitution of the United
States ; and in July next and at all admissions subsequent to that, in
the elements of algebra and mensuration. I have suggested these
branches in preference to some others that might be named, because
they seem on the whole to be the simplest, and the ones most intimately
connected with the studies already pursued in the grammar schools.

" Whether other studies shall be required, and how soon they shall
be added to the list, we shall have better means of judging a year
hence than now. A change of the kind contemplated can hardly fail
to give a favorable impulse, which will be propagated through the
whole series of lower schools.

'' I should be loth to believe that important improvements are not
in store for all our schools, from the High School down to the prima-
ries. I have great confidence also in the belief that improvements
hereafter are to be obtained in the same manner that all improvements
heretofore have been, I meai), by a constant process of improving

494 JOHN S. HART.

iipwards. The primaries are to be improved by elevating the second
aries, the secondaries by elevating the grammar schools, the grammar
schools by elevating the High School. The whole system, in short, is
to be improved by every part rising equally, gradually, and constantly.
The mode of improvement which I have suggested, seems to be that
which with the least action secures the largest results. As a small
angle of divergence at the top of a pyramid aflFects materially its solid
contents, so a small amount of legislation, judiciously applied to the
top of our system of public schools, and addressed primarily to only
four or five hundred of its pupils, may enlarge materially the intel-
lectual advantages of its whole forty or fifty thousand."

The adoption of this line of policy by the Controllers, and the per-
fect ease with which the measure was carried into efi"ect, settled entirely
the question of the adequacy of the one High School to supply the
wants of an ever increasing population.

The transfer of so considerable a number of studies from the High
School to the grammar schools, gave a fitting opportunity for extending
the course of the former. Among the studies which Mr. Hart had long
wished to see placed on the footing of an integral part of an English
education, was the Anglo-Saxon. In 1849 and 1850, with the con-
sent of the Controllers, he introduced this study into the High School
course, in connexion with his lectures on the early English literature.
As there was no one else at hand to undertake the task of instruction,
he set himself courageously to work to learn the language, in the midst
of his other multiplied duties, and taught it with most gratifying
success to several classes. Some prejudice, however, having been
awakened in the public mind, against this study, he was obliged in
1854 to yield to the popular clamor, and to abandon the course, just
as it had become fairly developed. The experiment on this subject in
the Philadelphia High School, was regarded with much interest in all
parts of the United States, and its very unexpected abandonment, after
such a noble progress had been made, was learned by many of the most
enlightened friends of education with sincere sorrow. Mr. Hart's
views on this subject are set forth with so much fulness in the paper
on ^' The English Language," before referred to, that it is not neces-
sary to dwell upon it farther in this place.

Professor Hart has been busy with his pen. Having access to the
editorial columns of nearly all the daily papers of the city, he has
seldom allowed a week to pass without some contribution to the general
current of public opinion. In the numerous local controversies, which
have necessarily grown out of the development of a general system of
popular education, he is understood to hj^ve availed himself very largely

JOnN S. HART. 495

of tliis means of allajdug opposition, and of propagating correct views.
ills thorougli investigation into the early history of the public schools
of Philadelphia, in preparing his course of lectures on that subject,
gave him rare facilities for such a purpose.

Besides these anonymous, but not least important labors, his annual
reports have furnished a vast amount of statistical information of the
greatest value for general educational purposes. These reports, if col-
lected, would form several large volumes. The information which
they contain, is presented with a compactness and perspicuity that
have made them models of their kind.

Mr. Hart's first work in the preparation of school books was the
editing of '^White's Universal History," in which he added several
chapters to that part relating to the discovery and settlement of North
America. This was in 1843.

In 1844 he discharged the duties of editor of the Pennsylvania
Common School Journal.

During the same year, he prepared and published two reading books,
which have been popular, namely, " The Class Book of Poetry,'' and
" The Class Book of Prose."

In 1845, he published two other popular school books, namely,
"English Grammar," and *^A Brief Exposition of the Constitution
of the United States."

Mr. Hale, the philologist to the United States Exploring Expedi-
tion, under Captain Wilkes, prepared for the government a large
quarto volume on the languages of Polynesia. It was a learned
work, containing some fifteen or more grammars and vocabularies
of the different groups of languages with which the Expedition was
brought into contact. Mr. Hale being in Europe at the time his
manuscript was going through the press, the diflicult task of editing
it was intrusted by the Government to Mr. Hart, and occupied no
little of his time in the years 1845 and 1846.

In 1847, his "Essay on Spenser and the Fairy Queen," already
referred to, appeared contemporaneously in New York and London.
It was a sumptuous octavo, of 514 pages, and was received with
marked favor. A new edition of it was issued in Philadelphia, iu
1854.

The severest literary labor, which he has at any time undertaken,
was the editing of Sartain's Magazine. This was a monthly periodi-
cal, established with a view to high literary excellence, and enlisting
in its service writers of the first class. Its success was imm^^diate, and
for that time very great, reaching in its second year a circulation of
thir "-iti\ousand. Mr. Hart, in addition to his other engagements, dis-

490 JOniN S. HART.

charged the editorial labors of this magazine for two years and a half
namely, from January, 1849, to July, 1851, writing all the editorials,
reading all the proofs, reading and deciding upon the manuscripts
offered for publication, amounting often in a single month to enough
to fill the magazine for a year, and conducting the entire correspond-
ence with the contributors. It was his boast, on leaving the ofl&ce,
that he had on no occasion kept either printer, publisher, or contri-
butor waiting for an hour.

Ilis connexion with this magazine brought him into familiar acquaint-
ance with most of the living writers of the country, and made compara-
tively easy his next task, which was a publication on the " Female
Prose Writers of America." This was issued in 1851. It was a
large octavo volume, of 630 pages, printed in beautiful style, embel-
lished with portraits, and containing original biographies with extracts.
The work was well received, and has been reprinted once or twice
since.

His latest publication is an introductory Latin reading book, entitled
"Epitome of Greek and Roman Mythology." It appeared in 1853.

During his connexion with the Philadelphia High School, Mr. Hart
has had numerous offers to go elsewhere. In December, 1844, he was
invited to the presidency of the Pennsylvania Institution for the Blind.
He has repeatedly had overtures to become the president of a College,
and once to be the Chancellor of a University, with a large increase of
salary. Thus far, however, with a wise moderation, he has uniformly
declined all offers of the kind.

Mr. Hart was elected a member of the American Philosophical
Society in January, 1844. He received the honorary title of Doctor
of Laws from Miami University in Ohio, in 1850.

For several years past, Mr. Hart has given a large amount of time
and labor to the Sunday school cause. Feeling how much he is him-
self indebted to this beneficent agency, he endeavors to discharge some
part of the obligation thereby laid upon him, by doing whatever may
be in his power to extend its benefits to others. On Sunday, both
morning and afternoon, he superintends a large Sabbath school, num-
bering fifty teachers and between three and four hundred scholars. On
this school he has brought to bear all the fruits of his long experience
as a professional teacher and governor of youth. Besides this, he is
an active manager of the American Sunday School Union, to which he
gives from two to three afternoons a week all the year round.

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

Frederick x\ugustus Porter Barnard, president of the Univers-
ity of Mississippi, whose reputation as a practical educator entitles
him, pre-eminently, to a notice in these pages ; and who, as a writer
on subjects connected with collegiate education, stands second to no
other in this country, was born in the year 1809, in the town of Shef-
field, Berkshire county, Massachusetts. His father, Robert Foster
Barnard, a counselor at law, highly respected in his profession, and
held in honor by all who knew him, for his distinguished moral
worth, was an influential citizen of his native county, which he seve-
ral times represented in the senate of the state. The subject of this
notice is sixth in lineal descent from Francis Barnard, of Essex, Eng-
land, who emigrated to this country about the year 1638, and was
one of the first settlers of Hartford, Connecticut ; but removed to
Hadley, Massachusetts, in 1654. In the dangers to which the early
colonists of New England were exposed, this family fully participated.
One of the sons of Francis Barnard was killed, early in life, at the
battle with the natives which, in 16 75, gave its name to Bloody
Brook, in Deerfield. Another, Joseph Barnard, from whom our sub-
ject is descended, was mortally wounded, in 1695, by a shot from a
savage lying in ambush, who fired upon him as he was passing peace-
ably along, upon his proper business, through the forest. A third
son. Rev. Thomas Barnard (mentioned third in order, but the eldest
of the family,) settled at Andover ; and from him are descended
many of the name or blood, who reside in the eastern part of Massa-
chusetts, among whom may be mentioned Rev. John Barnard, of
Marblehead.

Through his mother, who was the daughter of Dr. Joshua Porter,
of Salisbury, Connecticut, later in life of Saratoga Springs, and who
was also the niece of General Peter B. Porter and lion. Augustus
Porter, of Niagara Falls, President Barnard traces his lineage direct-
ly, through six intermediate generations, to Roger Williams, of Massa-
chusetts and Rhode Island, the early champion of religious liberty in
this country ; some of whose traits of character, particularly his firm-
ness of purpose, strength of will, and fearless obedience to the dic-
tates of conscience, whether by inheritance or otherwise, he certainly
possesses. p^

498 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

The subject of our notice is indebted, for his earliest mental cul-
ture, to maternal solicitude. As a child, he attended the common
school of his district, and had his place assigned him in classes in read-
ing and spelling ; but the tasks presenting no difficulty, because already
familiar, through his mother's teachings, he found school indescrib-
ably irksome ; and he has been often heard to speak of the childish
perplexity with which he was then accustomed to regard his compan-
ions, while they were engaged in what they called studying their
lessons.

He was, however, soon put to tasks which made him study. Before
the end of his eighth year he was tolerably versed in elementary ge-
ography ; and he had, with painful labor, and to his great disgust,
been compelled to learn by rote all " the large print," with a good
many qualifying " observations," and " exceptions," and " remarks,"
in less conspicuous type, in Lindley Murray's Grammar. It is per-
haps quite unnecessary to mention that, of all this verbal erudition,
he did not understand a single word ; but that, as he never forgot
any part of it, the meaning it was intended to embody was gradually
revealed to him, as he acquired the ideas themselves, through other
processes, later in life. After completing grammar, he was put into
" parsing," in which exercise he was told that he would find his pre-
vious attainments very helpful. The force of this suggestion, how-
ever, did not come home to him very strongly ; and he learned to
parse by a process entirely inductive — by listening to older pupils,
and by reading the "parsing lessons " placed at the end of Murray ;
the only part of the book from which he derived any benefit. lie
thus, by attention and comparison, became able to distinguish a noun
from a verb, without troubling himself to apply the severe test of the
definition, that " a noun is the name of any thing that exists, or of
which we have any notion," or that " a verb is a word which signi-
fies to be, to do, or to suffer."

Early in his eighth year he was advanced to the study of Latin.
This part of his education was commenced under the private tuition
of Rev. James Bradford, the minister of the Congregational church
in his native town, whom he has ever held in grateful remembrance.
The Latin grammar proved to be not in the slightest degree more
intelligible to the learner than the English had been ; but its contents
pretty nearly from cover to cover were transferred to his memory, by
the mechanical process which had already been made so painfully
familiar ; and they have there remained stereotyped throughout life,
owing their ultimate intelligibility, as in the former case, to knowl-
edge subsequently and otherwise acquired. It can not be questioned,

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 499

however, that this rote process has some advantages. The forms of
declension and conjugation, the tabulated connectives, and the irregu-
larities of a language, are, by means of it, indelibly impressed upon
the mind ; and they thus very much lighten the learner's subsequent
labor. But to a child, the process is unpalatable to the last degree ;
and its tendency is to produce generally a dislike to books.

The subject of our notice, however, was, from his earliest years,
very fond of books, when permitted to choose them for himself. The
''''Tales for Children''^ of Miss Edgeworth, and others, were early de-
voured. The school reading-books, except the dryer and didactic
parts, were read and re-read. The ^''Columbian Orator ^^ was a great
favorite. The tastes thus acquired soon demanded superior aliment.
Voyages and travels, history and dramatic writings, were sought after
with avidity. One of the earliest books read, and long remembered
for the delight it afforded, was Professor Silliman's narrative of his
travels in England, Holland, and Scotland. It awakened the strong-
est desire to know the author — a desire which, to the young reader's
satisfaction, was gratified later in life. A great part of RoUin's ^^His-
tory^'' and all of Shakspeare's ^^ Comedies,'^ and most of his ^^ Tragedies,^''
had been mastered before the age of twelve. The latter had been
read again and again.

In the meantime, however, Latin was a weariness to both the flesh
and the spirit ; but it continued to be inculcated, and Greek also, for
several years ; the learner having been placed at school, first in the
village of Saratoga Springs, and afterward at Stockbridge, in his na-
tive county. At the former place, however, he found something more
attractive than Latin ; having then, for the first time, enjoyed the op-
portunity of visiting a printing office. So strong a fascination for
him hung about tnat spot, that he could not be prevented from de-
voting all the hours of his freedom from school, morning, noon, and
night, and, above all, the " Saturday afternoons," so highly prized by
school boys, for tnany months, to acquiring a practical knowledge of
the magic art in his own person ; and so expert a printer did he then
become, that he has often, in his later life, lent an efficient hand, in
emergencies, in oflSces with which he has had a connection, as author
or editor.

In 1824, he entered Yale College, as a member of the freshman
class ; being the youngest member of a class long after noted for the
weight of talent it embraced, and known as the mathematical class.
Up to this time, he had given no attention to mathematical studies,
beyond the elementary rules of arithmetic. It very early became
manifest that a warm competition was to exist in the class, for the

500 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

first position in scliolarsbip in mathematical science, and, for a tuno.,
young Barnard, excessively diffident in disposition, and as yet quite
small in pei-son, shrank from thrusting himself forward, when he v/as
conscious that he hicked only self-possession to enable him to do so
successfully. Knotty points were often thrown out to the whole class
at once, any one being at liberty to rise and present solutions. It re-
quired some nerve for a boy of fifteen, to stand up and do this before
forty or fifty critics and competitors, some of them of nearly twice
his age. For some months, therefore, the peculiar character of his
mind was not recognized ; but, as he became familiarized with his
new situation, and his diffidence wore off, he descended into the arena,
and, from that moment, competition for the first position was at an
end. From the beginning to the close of his college career, he was
never, by accident or surprise, betrayed into an error before his class,
on any mathematical subject ; nor was he ever, for a single moment,
at a loss to meet any demand made by the instructor, whether of
liimself individually, or of the class collectively. He never contented
liimself with the modes of investigation or demonstration laid down
in the text-books, and rarely offered one in recitation which would be
found in them. Beginning with the elements of geometry, in his
freshman year, he amused himself with writing out novel demonstra-
tions of all propositions and problems, to the end of the course ; or
until they became so varied and numerous, that he could not spare
the time to write them. As a matter of course, he revelled in col-
lateral reading in the mathematics ; and, after his freshman year, he
had invariably read and laid aside the college text-book, long before
the class had taken it up. He never read a mathematical argument
more than once ; but usually addressed himself immediately to the
task of making another and a better. In synthetic treatises, his habit
was to confine his reading to the enunciations of the points to be
proved, and to work out the argument for himself before examining
the mode of treatment which the author had employed. It was, at
that period, practiced by the instructors, to put forth original test
propositions and problems, for the purpose of stimulating emulation,
and exciting competition. These were invariably solved, almost Avith-
in the hour, by young Barnard, and his solutions were often the only
ones offered. There prevailed, also, then, to some extent, the practice
of throwing out mathematical challenges, among the students them-
selves. Such challenges passed occasionally between members of dif-
ferent classes, and young Barnard was the object of a good many
such. He never failed to send back the knot untied, within less
than twenty-four hours. The tutor of his class in mathematics, dur-

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 501

ing tlie latter portion of his course, was the late W. N. Holland, af-
terward professor of mathematics in Trinity College, Hartford, him-
self distinguished for his mathematical abilities, and for his attain-
ments in science. Mr. Holland, in writing of Mr. Barnard, in 1837,
said: "I have never known anj^ person, except the late lamented
Prof. Fisher, who seemed to have so extraordinary a natural aptitude
for mathematical studies. He soon outstripped all competitors in
that department, and was, at the same time, a very excellent scholar
in the classics, and in English literature. After graduating with the
highest honors of his class, he became one of the masters of the Latin
school, in Hartford ; a station which, for many years, was offered only
to the best scholars from Yale College."

We have dwelt somewhat at length upon the educational history
of President Barnard, because his own notions of educational theory
have been mostly derived from his personal experience. In all the
course of his preparation for college, he had revolted against study,
because he was compelled to learn what he could not understand, for
the several reasons that difficult subjects were presented, before his
mind had attained sufficient maturity to receive them ; because they
were presented in dry, concise, and technical language, too abstract
for his comprehension ; and because little effort was made by his teach-
ers to compensate him for these disadvantages, by attempting, on
their own part, to throw light on the obscurity. Whatever was in-
telligible, even in childhood, was pleasing; whatever was unintelligi-
ble, was repulsive. History, personal narrative, the drama, was de-
lightful ; language was odious. And yet this subject was only odious,
because presented prematurely, or unintelligibly ; for, in his later life,
Mr. Barnard has been a passionate devotee to linguistic studies, and
has made himself acquainted with all the languages of Europe, ex-
cept the Sclavonic tongues. So soon as the subject of mathematics
was presented to his mind, the clearness with which every truth stood
forth in the light of demonstration, was completely fascinating, and
he followed where it led, not as a task, but as a pleasure.

It is a doctrine, therefore, entertained by President Barnard, that
the mind of childhood should rather be enticed than driven to the
acquisition of knowledge. He further believes that the love of knowl-
edge is so far natural, that no other excitement is needed but knowl-
edge itself, intelligibly presented ; and consequently that, in order that
this condition may be secured, the subjects of knowledge, which form
the substance of teaching, should be adapted to their order, and in
the manner of exhibition, to the degree of maturity or development
of the mind itself.

502 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

Mr. Barnard, after remaining two years at Hartford, where he pub-
lished a treatise on arithmetic, wliich, in tlie \Yords of Prof. Hol-
land, " added much to his reputation, especially in the higher and
more difficult parts," was elected to a tutorship in Yale College, being
then just twenty-one years of age. This office he held but a year,
having resigned it in consequence of an apprehended failure of health.
During this time, however, he prepared and published an edition of
Bridge's ''''Conic Sections,''* which has since been extensively used in
American colleges, in which the work was substantially rewritten, and
also considerably enlarged. It may serve to illustrate the estima-
tion in which he was held, at the time, by Prof. Olmsted, who had
been his instructor, to mention that he was engaged by that gentle-
man to examine, critically, the manuscript of his Natural Philosophy,
then in preparation for the press. Another evidence of this consid-
eration is found in the fact that Prof. Olmsted proposed to him,
before his retirement, to come into an arrangement by which he might
be his assistant professor, until such time as* the college should be
able to divide the chair, and give to Mr. Barnard the department of
the mathematics — a proposition which would have been accepted, but
for the cause above mentioned, compelling him to desist for a time
from occupation.

While a student in college, Mr. Barnard had devoted' the time
given by most of his class to the study of the modern languages, to
the prosecution of mathematical studies, in the higher departments
of the science. Soon after his graduation, he perceived how indis-
pensable to the scientific student is an acquaintance with some of the
languages of continental Europe. He accordingly addressed himself
to the study of the French, with such earnestness of purpose that in
the course of a few months he had nearly dispensed with lexicons ;
and soon after began to read the language with the same facility as
English. He afterward turned his attention to the Italian and Span-
ish, with similar success ; and, at a later period of life, to the Ger-
man, Swedish, Danish, and Dutch.

After his retirement from Yale College, Mr. Barnard became tem-
porarily connected with the American Asylum for the Deaf and
Dumb, in Hartford ; and, during this period, he conducted, for a short
time, the ^^JVew England Weekly Review^'' previously edited by Pren-
tice and Whittier, successively. He did not long remain in this situ-
ation, however, having been invited to a corresponding position, in
the New York Institution for the Deaf and Dumb. This institution,
now occupying a rank among the first of its class in the country or
in the world, had then just fallen into the hands of its present able

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 503

president, Dr. H. P. Peet ; and one of the earliest and most satisfac-
tory evidences which Mr. Peet gave of his clear-sighted sagacity,
consisted in his judicious selection of his colleagues. It is believed
that he will cheerfully testify not only to the activity, zeal, and suc-
cess with which Mr. Barnard discharged the immediate duties of his
station ; but also to the ability displayed by him in assisting to bring
the claims of this department of education to the favorable regard
of the legislature and people of the state ; and, still further, in direct-
ing the attention of the professors of the art in this country, to the
scientific and psychological principles on which it rests. In the library
of the institution, Mr. Barnard found a valuable collection of works,
in foreign languages, on deaf-mute instruction. He gave himself to
the perusal of these with avidity ; and was thus led to enter upon a
course of metaphysical study, and of investigation of the philosophy
of language, which soon possessed for him all the fascination which
the mathematics had exercised before. He published articles on the
history and philosophy of the education of the deaf and dumb, in
several of the higher periodicals of the day, as the ^'■North American
Eevieio,'''' the ^'Christian Spectator,''^ and the '-^Biblical Repository ;''^
and he prepared many able documents on the subject for the institu-
tion itself. The subject of grammar, of which the memories of his
childhood were any thing but pleasing, became, at this time, so favor-
ite with him, that he published a treatise of his own, entitled ^''Ana-
lytic Grammar^ with Symbolic Illustration,"' in which the structure
of language and the relations of the words which make connected
speech, were visibly symbolified. The treatise found much favor with
the philosophic, and would probably have come into general use as a
school book, but for its association with a special department of edu-
cation, and the impression that it w\as designed for learners wanting
in one of the most important of the senses.

While pursuing these studies and prosecuting these labors, Mr.
Barnard did not forget the favorite pursuits of previous years. Besides
keeping alive his interest in mathematics, he engaged in the study of
physical science, and became an assiduous observer of meteorological
phenomena, including those of the aurora borealis, the zodiacal light,
and shooting stars. Upon these, especially those of the first and last
class, he made many observations, in concert with Mr. E. C. Herrick,
the well-known meteorologist of New Haven. Some contributions
of this date may be found, from him, in the ^^ American Journal of
Science.^'' He also prepared and published, about this time, in the
^^ American Monthly Magazine^ of New York, to which he was a

C04 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

contributor, a summary of tbe existing state of electrical science, as
connected with magnetism.

In the latter part of 1837, Mr. Barnard was elected to the profess-
orship of mathematics and natural philosophy in the University of
Alabama; and, on his way, he stopped at Richmond, Virginia, to
advocate, before the legislature of that state, an institution for the
deaf and dumb. There he encountered Dr. S. G. Howe, of Boston,
who was there on a similar errand, in behalf of the blind. It was
agreed that the friends of the two measures should unite their efforts ;
and the result of this union was the erection of the institution now in
operation at Staunton, in which instruction is given, in different de-
partments, both to the deaf and dumb and the blind.

Mr. Barnard entered upon his duties in Alabama, in the spring of
1838. During this year, he prepared and published ^'•The Alabama
State Almanac for 1839," which he designed to make a vehicle of
scientific information, as well as a calendar, and a register of statistical
matters, and other matters of fact. The astronomical computations
were by himself, unassisted; and the remaining contents, also, mainly
by himself, were interesting and valuable ; but the sale did not repay
the very considerable expense of publishing such a work in Tusca-
loosa; and it was, therefore, impossible to continue it. A literary
magazine, entitled ^''The Southron,"" ha\ing sprung up about the
same time, was mainly sustained by the contributions of Prof. Bar-
nard, and two gentlemen, both of whom have since become pretty
widely known to the country, Hon. A. B. Meek and Hon. W. R.
Smith. For a number of years, also, Prof. Barnard was the unavowed
editor of "TAe Independent Monitor j*^ a weekly newspaper, printed
in Tuscaloosa; and, during this time, his pen was excessively prolific,
and was employed on a wide range of subjects. As an editor, his
writings were marked by a cheerful vein, mingled with a constant
flow of humor; and no oracle of the tripod has probably ever been
more favorite in Alabama, than he. He contributed, also, occasion-
ally, and for a time regularly, to the other weekly newspaper in
Tuscaloosa, the ^^ Observer y •

While in Alabama, Prof. Barnard published a new arithmetic,
which came, for a time, into pretty general use in that state. He
also directed the construction of the astronomical observatory of the
University of Alabama ; but, owing to his subsequent acceptance of
the chair of chemistry in the university, it did not continue to be
under his management. He was frequently called upon to deliver
public addresses, on occasions of interest. One of these was in com-
memoration of the "Xi/e and Public Services of Hon. W. R, King^"*

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 505

pronounced in compliance with a request tendered by the citizens of
Tuscaloosa, irrespective of party. Another, which was published,
and which was very flatteringly noticed, in many quarters, was an
oration before the Alabama Alpha of the Phi Beta Kappa Society,
upon the subject of ^^Art Culture.''^ He also lectured repeatedly, on
scientific subjects, before popular audiences, in Tuscaloosa, and else-
where ; and, on several occasions, commanded crowded audiences, in
the state house, during the sessions of the legislature.

On the publication of the accounts of the photographic discovery
of Daguerre, Mr. Barnard, even before the processes were disclosed,
entered zealously upon a series of experiments, relating to the art;
and he very early addressed a communication to the '"''Journal of Sci-
ence^'' giving a mode of preparihg plates, by the use of chlorine gas,
of such sensitiveness, as to receive an instantaneous impression. Such
methods were, about the same time, introduced elsewhere ; but the
reagent employed was difterent ; and Mr. Dana, in acknowledging
the communication, stated that it was the first account that had
appeared, of the successful application of chlorine to this interesting
art.

In the year 1846, a joint commission was appointed, on the part
of the states of Alabama and Florida, for the purpose of settling the
boundary line between their territories, which had always been in
dispute. This boundary is the treaty line between Spain and the
United States, which was run between the years 1*796 and 1799;
and should be the 31st parallel of latitude. The commissioners, on
both sides, were to be assisted by astronomers and surveyors, ap-
pointed in the interest of the several states. Prof Barnard was
appointed, by Gov. Martin, as astronomer on behalf of the State of
Alabama. The parties met on the banks of the Chattahoochee, at
the disputed line, in November, 1846. The astronomer appointed
on the part of Florida, failed to appear ; and Prof. Barnard was ac-
cordingly appointed on the part of that state, also. After the neces-
sary observations had been made at the Chattahoochee, and as far
from the river as was thought necessary, the commissioners resolved
to commit the entire remaining part of the examination to Prof.
Barnard and his assistants, alone; and he accordingly proceeded
along the line, from the Chattahoochee to the Perdido, and thence into
Alabama, to the Tensaw; the monuments being found still to exist
along the parallel, all the way to the Mississippi River. His report on
the results of the examination, which was laid before both legisla-
tures, had the effect to settle the controversy immediately.

In the year 1848, the chair of chemistry in the university became

506 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

vacant ; and Prof. Barnard was induced to accept it. He immedi-
ately gave a great development to the system of instruction in that
science, as it had been previously conducted in that institution, or
rather remodeled the system entirely; introducing experimental illus-
tration, on the most ample scale. Desirous, also, of enlarging the
usefulness of the university, as well as of introducing a species of in-
fluence, favorable to the manners of the students, he invited the
young ladies of the Female Institute of Tuscaloosa (there being at
that time but one seminary for young ladies in that city, where there
are now four, all of them flourishing,) as well as the ladies of the city,
generally, to attend his lectures, at the laboratory ; an invitation
which caused his lecture room to be much frequented, and often to be
thronged to excess.

During the period in which he held this professorship, he continued
to cultivate his mathematical studies; and among other evidences
•which he gave of this, may be instanced a series of papers in the
^'■American Journal of Science^'' on the subject of the Mechanical
Theory of Heat, and the conditions essential to the success of engines
driven by heated air.

In the fall of 1853, he was appointed a juror in the Exhibition
of the AVorld's Industry, held in New York City ; but was delayed
in attendance, until the jury to which he was attached had completed
its labors.

In the year 1855, the British Association for the Advancement of
Science extended special invitations to a limited number of the men of
science of America, to attend tbeir annual meeting, held that year in
in Glasgow. Mr. Barnard received the compliment of one of these
invitations, but was unable to attend.

During the latter part of his connection with the University of Ala-
bama, some of the friends of that institution set on foot a project for
the remodeling of the system of instruction, in such a manner as to
leave to every student the free option to select for himself the studies
he would pursue. This scheme alarmed the friends of sound educa-
tion in Alabama, especially when it began to appear that strenuous
efibrts were making, through the press, to prepossess the popular opin-
ion in favor of the change. These, therefore, resorted to the same chan-
nel for disabusing the public mind of error, which had been employed
to propagate it ; and accordingly a very animated discussion occupied
the columns of many of the papers of the state, for several months.
In this discussion, Mr. Barnard took a very active and zealous part,
in vindication of the time-honored system, which was threatened with
destruction ; and his articles produced a very perceptible impression

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. SOT

upon the conductors of the press, no less than upon public sentiment
generally ; and were probabV more instrumental than any other, in
arresting the tendency to favor the spirit of destructiveness, which
was beginning to be very distinctly manifested.

In obedience to a requisition of the board of trustees of the Uni-
versity, communicated to the faculty in July, 1853, a committee of
the faculty was appointed to report a plan of reorganization, in con-
formity with the views of the advocates of change. Of this com-
mittee Mr. Barnard was chairman. The committee, in conformity
with instructions, reported such a plan as had been required of them ;
but the majority of the committee, consisting of Prof. Barnard and
Prof. J. W. Pratt, presented an additional report, embodying an elab-
orate examination of the plan, and its emphatic condemnation. In
this report, which was drawn up by Prof. Barnard, the expediency of
the proposed innovation is examined in the light of the experience of
those institutions which have given it a full or a partial trial ; and it
is shown, by an extensive collation of facts, to have resulted in prac-
tical failure, in nearly every such instance. The plan, however, is
more uncompromisingly condemned, upon higher and purely philo-
sophic grounds, drawn from a consideration of the objects of educa-
tional discipline ; and the dangerous fallacy which underlies the popu-
lar objection to many collegiate studies, viz., that they are not practi-
cal, is energetically exposed. The report concludes with the citation
of the written opinions of many of the ablest educators in the coun-
try, upon the point in discussion, which are shown to be, with singu-
lar unanimity, hostile to the proposed innovation.

Some passages in the report are sufficiently remarkable to deserve
citation here. The following tribute to the value of classical learning,
carries with it the more weight, as coming from a man whose natural
tastes had inclined him almost exclusively to the cultivation of sci-
ence, and whose professional pursuits might have been supposed
likely to make him forgetful of the amenities or the uses of literary
study : —

Tf tlie study of language generally has the value which is here claimed for it, that
of the languages of ancient Rome and Greece possesses this merit in an eminent
degree. In them those principles of the philosophy of speech, to which allusion
has been made, and which constitute in their systematized form the science of
general grammar, ai-e more perfectly and more happily illustrated, than in any
other known tongues, living or dead. And not only is it true that, as languages,
ihey thus furnish, to the linguistic philosopher, the most interesting, as they do at
the same time, to the youthful student, the most improving of all the subjects em-
braced in this department of knowledge; but, also, it most fortunately happens,
that their literature presents the happiest examples of language in its proper use —
the most unexceptionable models of historical, dramatic, poetical, met^iphysical,
and oratorical composition, that the world has ever seen. We have, then, in the
Greek and Roman tongues, the instrument of human thought in its most perfect

508 FREDERICK A. P. DARNARD.

form; aiifl, in the Greek and Roman classic authors, the application and the uses
of the instrument, in their most admirable and elegant illustrations. So strongly
have these considerations impressed the educators — it may almost be said univers-
ally— of all modern time, that the perpetually recurring cry of the "practical
men" of the entire century which pi-eeedes us — Ctii bono ? what will all this Latin
and Greek do for us in the business of spinning cotton and raising potatoes? — has
been of no avail whatever to dislodge the classics from our colleges, or even to
unsettle the firmness of the tenure by which they maintain their j^rescriptive prom-
inence there. In view of these considerations, how empty and shallow does all
this revolutionary clamor appear! And of how utterly trivial importance is it,
whether the student, who hjis experienced the inestimable benefits which spring
from a thorough study of the " llumane Letters," remembers, or fails to remem-
ber, through all his after life, the mere facts of knowledge which, as necessary
incidentals to this training, he picked up during his student career!

After some further examination of the specific modes in which
classical study benefits the learner, and after the citation of the opin-
ions of distinguished educatoi-s on the subject, the report proceeds : —

But while thus the value of' classical study, in the subjective influence it exer-
cises upon the student, is vindicated not only by a consideration of the nature of
the study itself, but also by the testimony of judicious educators every where,
even of those who have consented to its optional banishment from the college cur-
riculum, it is not difficult, after all, to disprove the assertion, so frequently and so
flippantly made, that the knowledge which this species of study furnishes to the
youth is without any practical use in later life. And here, in employing the words,
practical use, the undersigned would not be understood to intend a use so intensely
and literally and materially practical, as to manifest itself in superiority of skill in
planting cotton, or unusual wisdom in managing stock ; for, if a test so gross is to
be applied to the attainments of the scholar in every department, many other
branches of learning, besides the ancient classics, will fall under the ban. But if
propriety of speech, ease, and copiousness of expression, and those various graces
of conversation, which distinguish the man of letters, may be regarded as practi-
cal benefits to their possessor ; if the greater respect which they enable him to com-
mand from his surrounding fellow men, is a tribute worth receiving; if the substan-
tial addition to his influence over others, and to his power of benefiting mankind,
which they bestow, be not a thing to be despised ; then will the man, in whose
youthful culture the ancient classics have not been overlooked, carry with him, to
the latest day of his life, advantages derived from their study, which no sordid
computation of dollars and cents can ever adequately represent.
« * w « ******

And, on this point, it may finally be added that, in the present state of the
world's literature, some familiarity with the classic authors of Greece and Rome
is, to any man who aspires to the name of a scholar, simply a necessity. The
literature of all modern Europe is inextricably interwoven with that of Greece and
Rome — and our own no less than every other. We can not be literary men, and yet
be ignorant of the classics. The idea is utterly preposterous ; and all the attempts
to decry the ancient learning, by representing it as so much " learned lumber,"
and thus endeavoring to bring it into disrepute, will have no other effect than
to awaken the suspicion, or establish tlie certainty, that their originators are no
better scholars than they sliould be, themselves.

Is it possible, then, that the trustees of this univemty will deliberately resolve
to award the honor of graduation, to C(»nfer tlie diploma, which, from the earliest
history of colleges, has been recognized <mly as tlie certificate of genuine scholar-
ship, upon men who willfully neglect that which always has been, and inevitably
always must be, the first essential to the scholar ? Is it possible that they will do
this ruinous thing, at a time when the university is in the enjoyment of a sound
and healthy prosperity, such as it never has experienced before; and such as, to
all who have been familiar with the early history of other colleges, is not only satisfac-
tory, but highly encouraging ? Is it possible that they will do it, with the evidence
before them of an entirely tranquil contentment pervading the whole people, in
regard to the system of instruction in operation here ; and in view of the fact

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 509

that the proi)os!t;on for a change, publislied every where throughout the state, has
avvakenod only an occasional and feeble response -, while it has, at the same
time, elicited from the scattered friends of sound education so numerous, and elab-
orate, and able vindications of the existing order of things, as to prove, beyond all
question, that the sound sense of the people is satisfied with what we have, and
asks for nothing better ? Is it possible that they will do this, and, in doing so, substitute,
in place of a tried and approved system, one which has not even the guaranty of
past success to recommend it; but which is actually, in spite of all impressions
heretofore existing to the contrary, unpopular at home, and which has, in point
of fact, already broken down in every other institution which has attempted to
borrow it ? Surely this can not be.

One of the striking points made by the report is, that the Univers-
ity of Virginia, which is so often referred to in evidence of the popu-
larity of the " open system " of university teaching, furnishes in its
published catalogues conclusive evidence that this system, in so far as
relates to under-graduate instruction, is unpopular in the State of
Virginia itself. The report states that : —

The catalogue of the University of Virginia, last published (for 1853-54.)
shows a total of students, belonging to Virginia, of 289.* But, as a considerable
number of these are students of law and medicine, they certainly, in a compari-
son like this, are not to be counted. By a careful enumeration, it appears that
the number of these professional students, belonging to Virginia, is 126. The stu-
dents in the department of arts are, therefore, only 163. According to the Unit-
ed States Census for 1850, the total white population of Virginia was, in that
year, 894,800. The same authority gives the total white population of Alabama,
at the same time, as 426.514. According to these figures, if the University of
Virginia is prosperous while the state furnishes it one hundred and sixty-three
students of arts, ours ought to be equally so, so long as we have as many as sev-
enty-seven. But the catalogue of the University of Alabama, published last
November, contains the names of ninety-eight students of arts from Alabama ;
and, if we add those who were admitted after the publication of the catalogue,
we shall have one hundred and seven. Is there any ground, then, for asserting
that our numbeis are feeble ; or that Alabama does not patronize her own uni-
versity as well as other states do theirs ? Should the assertion be still adhered
to, it can be established only by comparison with some state institution in which
the close, instead of the open, system of instruction is maintained ; and hence
the whole inference, which it has been sought to derive from this fact, will fall to
the ground.

In truth, the comparison just made is most disastrous to the claims of the Vir-
ginia system, as it respects its actual popularity. For, be it observed, a main
reason why we are urged to adopt that system is, that the existing one is so hope-
lessly unpopular ^s to render some destructive outbreak in the legislature, or
among the people, all but absolutely inevitable. Yet, unpopular as it is (if these
assumptions are true,) it is manifestly, as the figures themselves show, nearly fifty
per cent, more popular in Alabama, than the system of the Virginia University is
in Virginia.

Further on in this report, the argument is resumed, as follows : —

The very small number of students of arts furnished by Virginia to her own
university, as has already been shown earlier in this report, is evidence enough
that the system has not the approbation of Virginians themselves. This fact will
appear more unanswerably true, if we extend the comparison to other colleges,
where the close system is severely carried out. The College of South Carolina,
for instance, exhibits a list of 189' under-graduatcs for the collegiate year 1853-
54, of whom 175 are furnished by the State of South Carolina itself. The total

* The total number of students in the University of Virjrinia. durin? tlie year, from all the
states which fiiniishert to it students, was much greater than this. The nature of the argu-
ment required the couiparisou to be coulined, however, to Virijinia alone.

510 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

white population of the state, according to the census of 1850, is 274, 5G3 ; while
that of Virginia, as already stated, is 894,800, furnishing only 163 students of
arts to the fcstate University. If South Carolina patronized her college no better
than Virginia does her university (the professional schools apart,) she would scud
to Columbia but fifty students instead of 175. The South Carolina College is one
of some standing in years. Let us take another, also maintaining rigidly the
close system, which has been in operation only for a limited period — the Univers-
ity of Mississippi. The total number of students on the catalogue of this insti-
tution for the past year is 158 ; from which, subtracting all but those whose resi-
dences are in the state, and who are pursuing the regular under-graduate course,
we shall have 134, upon a population of 295,718. Yet, if Mississippi were no
more partial to the course of education in lier university than Virginia seems to
be to that which hers has adopted, she would furnish to it only fifty-three under-
graduate students.

In the following table are presented the results of similar calculations for a
number of colleges, whose catalogues happen to be at hand. The dates are the
latest accessible, and are all recent. In the first column are placed the number
of under-graduates which each state would furnish to the college belonging to it,
if it furnished the same number, in proportion to population, which Virginia
furnishes to her university ; and in the second are placed the actual members
present, as given in the several catalogues, excluding all from other states, and all
who are not regular under-graduates : —

Proportional Actual
Number. Number.

University of Virginia, 163 163

University of Alabama, 77 107

South Carolina College, 50 175

University of Mississippi, 53 ........ 134

University of Georgia, 95 1 07

University of North Carolina, 100 139

Yale College, 66 135

Harvard University, 178 238

Dartmouth College, 57 160

It appears to the undersigned that facts of this nature, and which admit of
being multiplied to a much greater extent, combine to furnish an absolute dem-
onstration that the system of instruction practiced at the University of Virginia
is, for students not attending the professional schools, absolutely out of favor and
unpopular where it is best known — in the State of Virginia itself. It appears that
not one single consideration exists to encourage the belief that that system, trans-
planted here, woulJ be any more favorite with the people of Alabama than it is
in Virginia. It appears that, though the name has become a popular catchword
among those who have urged the remodeling of our own State University, yet
the reality which it represents is not at all that thing which it is evidently here
supposed to be ; and that its introduction with us could only lead to immediate
disappointment, and ultimate dissatisfaction and disgust.

The faculty of the University of Alabama, to whori^this report of
the majority of their committee was read, directed it to be presented
to the board of trustees. It was accordingly read before that body,
at a special meeting, held toward the close of September, 1854. The
board, some of the members of which had been partially committed
to the view that some modification or other ought to be introduced
into the plan of instruction ; and being at the same time convinced
of the injudiciousness of adopting the proposed radical measure of
change ; fell, in the end, upon a sort of compromise, by which, with-
out touching, or in any way impairing, the system of previous years,
they endeavored to throw the university more widely open than be-
fore to students who should desire to select their own studies. The

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 511

regular classes, and the four years' course, were suffered to stand, but
the names of the classes were changed from freshman, sophomore, &c.,
to " class of the first year," " class of the second year, " (fee. ; and the
hours of recitation were so arranged as to permit a student, not a
member of a regular class, to recite in such subjects as he should
choose to select. Professor Barnard, though with reason abundantly
satisfied with the substantial success which had crowned the exertions
of himself and his associates in this severely contested struggle, yet
regarded even the trivial concession which, had been made to the
spirit of change as an error, and predicted that its advocates would
themselves be early convinced of the fact. The prediction was fully
realized, even earlier than he had imagined ; the university having
abandoned the experiment at the end of the third year, and returned,
in all particulars, to the system which existed before the change.

During the same year, 1S54, the subject of college government
was discussed in the public journals of Alabama, with an animation
hardly less warm than that which had marked the struggle in regard
to systems of instruction. Grave exceptions were taken to the disci-
plinary code, as it at that time stood ; and suggestions were thrown
out for its improvement, such as, for the most part, served only to
illustrate the want of practical knowledge, on the part of the censors,
of the subject which they undertook to treat. To some of these sug-
gestions Mr. Barnard was led to reply, in a letter addressed to Hon.
A. B. Meek, one of the editors of the ^^Mobile Register.'''' Having
once broken ground on the subject, however, he followed it up in a
series of communications, addressed to the same gentleman, in which
he undertook to show that the complaints, so often heard on the sub-
ject of collegiate disciphne, ascribe the evils which exist to erroneous
causes altogether, and fail to recognize the true causes, which are simply
the isolation of the youthful community, its immunity from the re-
straints of public opinion, and its practical freedom from the ordina-
ry operations of municipal law. He maintained, with earnest em-
phasis, that nearly all the vice which college associations engender,
and by far the greater part of the troubles with which college gov-
ernment is embarrassed, grow out of our perpetuation of a system
which originated in a different age, and in a different state of society,
from that in which we live ; which was, in its origin, surrounded by
securities which we have totally discarded, and can not resume, if we
would ; and which compels us to profess to exercise a degree of
moral restraint over young men, which we have no means to make ef-
fectual. What is called the " dormitory system " is therefore regard-
ed by Mr. Barnard as containing in it the source of most of the evils

512 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

encountered in the management of colleges ; and for these evils he
sees no effectual remedy, short of the abandonment of the system
itself. The practical difficulty which prevents the application of the
remedy — immediately, at least — in the case of the greater part of the
collegiate institutions of the country, is to be found in their location
in small villages, or in positions entirely isolated, where students can
not obtain accommodations, except such as the dormitories afford.
The original selection of such locations, Mr. Barnard regards as an
error of great magnitude.. It seems to have been occasioned by a
prevalent impression in regard to the freedom of such locations from
temptations to idleness or vice, which he looks upon as quite illuso-
ry ; but it has entailed upon the institutions themselves many disad-
vantages and embarrassments, which are very palpable and real.

The impression produced by these letters upon the friends of edu-
cation in Alabama, and elsewhere, was such as to occasion a demand
for their republication, in a more permanent form. They were there-
fore collected, and, with some slight revision, given to the public, in
a thick pamphlet, in December, 1854.

"While these matters were occupying the thoughts and the pen of Mr.
Barnard, he engaged also, with much zeal, in the advocacy of pro-
jects of internal improvement, by which the rich resources of central
and northern Alabama might be brought into communication with
markets, and so rendered available. Upon this general subject, and
upon particular schemes for connecting Tuscaloosa and the country
north of it with the sea-board, he prepared and published many forci-
bly-argued papers ; and he, at the same time, availed himself of op-
portunities offered by railroad conventions, and other public meetings,
to address the people, in person, upon the same topics. During the
summer of 1854, he also published a series of papers, in one of the
daily journals of New Orleans, earnestly urging the importance of an
air-line of communication, between that city and Chattanooga, Ten-
nessee ; by which the air-line chain, extending from Maine to Louisi-
ana, would bo completed. The portion of this work within the State
of Alabama, is now under construction ; the extension through Missis-
sippi to New Orleans, remains to be undertaken.

In the month of September, 1854, Mr. Barnard was elected to the
professorship of mathematics and natural philosophy in the University
of Mississippi, at Oxford. This was an infant institution, which had been
in operation only six years ; having been established on the foundation
of a donation of lands made in trust, by congress, to the legislature
of Mississippi for the purpose, at the time of the admission of the state
into the Union, in 1817. The state had sold the lands many years

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 513

ago, and had received the proceeds into the public treasury. From
time to time, laws had been passed, providing for the periodical state-
ment of the account between the treasury and the seminary fund ;
but these laws had been but imperfectly complied with ; and, during
the long period which had elapsed without any measures having
been set on foot to carry out the intention of congress in making the
donation, the whole subject had become so perplexed, that no one at
this time (1854,) definitely knew what was the actual state of the case.
At the time of Mr. Barnard's election to his chair, the university
was greatly in need of funds. Its buildings were wanting in extent
of accommodations, and in arrangements convenient for experimental
instruction in science. Its library was small, its apparatus imperfect
and deficient, and its collections in mineralogy, geology, and natural
history, extremely meager. The necessity was apparent to the board
of trustees, of applying to the legislature for relief; and this was
brought the more strongly to their convictions by Mr.* Barnard's
urgent representations of the wants of the scientific departments, and
the importance of greatly enlarging the library. The trustees, there-
fore, at their meeting in July, 1855, appointed a committee to memo-
rialize the legislature; and the duty of preparing the memorial
was assigned to Mr. Barnard. In this document, which is carefully
drawn up, and condensed as far as practicable, consistently with
its design, the argument in favor of extending a liberal support
to the university of the state, considered as the prime mover in the
educational system, is strongly presented ; and the specific defects exist-
ing in the institution at the time, and for the supply of which funds
were urgently needed, are pointed out, with such explanation as to
make the urgency of the case obvious. The memorial produced an
impression strongly favorable; and this impression was strengthened
and enforced by an oral argument, addressed to the members of both
houses, in the representatives' hall, by Prof. Barnard, at the request
of the trustees, durinor the session of the leo^islature. While this
memorial was pending, however, the board resolved to make a
thorough investigation into the condition of the seminary fund; and
a committee of the body was occupied for several days, in ascertain-
ing what balance, under the existing laws, ought to be due to it, on
the books of the treasury. In these labors they were assisted by
Prof. Barnard, who was indefatigable in the zeal of his co-operation,
and by whom the results of the investigatis*., exiiiL^iting a large
balance to the credit of the fund, were finally condensed into a suc-
cinct and satisfactory statement. This statement, having been reported
to the governor, by the president of the board, was thought by him

514 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

to be of sufficient importance, to justify him in laying it before the
legislature in a special message, which he accordingly did, in the
month of February, 1856. The immediate consequence of all these
efforts was the passage of a law, appropriating to the university
120,000 per annum, in addition to its existing income, for five years.

With the increased means thus secured, the board proceeded to
make rapid and extensive improvements in the university, showing in
the various measures, which they adopted for this purpose, great con-
sideration to the recommendations of Prof." Barnard. Within less
than three years, the time which has since elapsed, they have
placed the university, in regard to its internal arrangements, to its scien-
tific collections, and to its appliances generally for furnishing the ambi-
tious student with the largest advantages for the acquisition of knowl-
edge, on a level with the best institutions of its class in the United States.

In the summer of 1855, Prof. Barnard was selected by the
president of the American Association for the Advancement of Edu-
cation, Prof. A. D. Bache, to prepare a paper on the subject of the
"Improvements Practicable in American Colleges," for presentation
at the annual meeting of the association, in August, of that year.
This paper, which was published among the proceedings of the asso-
ciation, and in the ''^American Journal of JEducation,''^'^*received wide
approval and commendation for the judiciousness of its suggestions, and
was reviewed, with strong expressions of approval, in the ''^Southern
Quarterly Review,^'' in an article, understood to bd^from the pen of the
accomplished editor, Dr. Thornwell.

In the summer of 1856, the presidency of the university fell va-
cant, by the resignation of Dr. Longstreet, who had filled it success-
fully for seven years ; and Prof. Barnard was elected to succeed him.
He entered upon his new office, under circumstances of peculiar deli-
cacy ; and it was anticipated, by all who were on the ground, that his
administration would have, at the outset, to contend with diflBculties
of no ordinary magnitude. The anticipation was verified in the am-
plest manner. But, in spite of sectarian feeling, excited to its utmost
pitch against him, by men who sought to bring the university under
denominational influence ; and of the unscrupulous and untiring as-
saults by a notorious and infamous pretender to science, who, after his
ejection froin a Ji?^*" in the unive)*sity, sought to gratify his malignity
by venting the most atrocious slanders and libels upon the personal
character of Dr. Barnard ; and although the systems of discipline and
instruction, which it was the purpose of the new president to intro-
duce into the university, were misapprehended by some, and misrep-

♦Vol.L, p. 174.

FREDERICK A P. BARNARD. 515

resented by others ; his plans for the improvement anj development
of the university have begun to bear fiuit ; and many of those who,
through the efforts of interested persons, were once strongly preju-
diced against him, and his system of university education, are now
among the warmest of his admirers and supporters.

At the close of the year 185G, President Barnard delivered a lec-
ture to the graduating class of that year, on the subject of the Rela-
tions which exist hetioeen the education of the University and that of
Common Schools. In this lecture, which was published at the request
of the class, we have a condensed statement of views which it has
been the practice of the author, for many years, to inculcate con-
stantly upon those who have received instruction at his hands, in re-
gard to the duties which, as members of societ}^ they owe to the
great cause of education. He exhorts them never to forget the claims
of the institution in which they were themselves educated, and never
to relax in effort for the elevation of the university to the highest
level, whether in regard to intellectual character, or to its material
means of usefulness ; but to remember, above all, that this usefulness
is not limited to the direct agency of the institution, in imparting
knowledge to the comparatively small number who resort to it, to
obtain personal instruction within its walls ; but is felt far more wide-
ly, and to far more beneficial purpose, through its indirect action up-
on the minds of the whole people ; by setting in motion, and keeping
in efficient operation, a system of universal education, for which it
supplies the stimulus and furnishes the laboring men. He therefore
earnestly desires them, while they vigorously persevere in their active
support of the higher education, in the university of their native
state especially, yet, by all means, to rest their support on the broad
principles of universal philanthropy ; and to sustain the university,
because, in so doing, they contribute, more efficiently than they can
do in any other way, to the education of the whole people.

The second year of President Barnard's administration, recently
closed, has been one of remarkable success. His power of controlling
young men has been exemplified in the good order which has pre-
vailed, throughout the session, among the students of the university —
a degree of order never previously existing there ; while the grade of
scholarship has also been materially elevated and improved. These
results, achieved in so short a time, and in the face of so many adverse
circumstances, are justly regarded by his friends, and by the literary
public, as demonstrations of his peculiar fitness for the discharge of
the administrative duties pertaining to his position.

During this year. President Barnard brought distinctly before the

516 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

trustees of the university, and the public, a plan wliicli he had long
cherished in his own mind, to elevate the university, in the grade of
its teaching and in the character of its aims, to a level correspondent
to the assumption of its name ; to put it, in brief, in the way to be-
come, just as rapidly as the educational wants of tlie country shall
demand, an univei-sity in the European sense of the term. This plan
he unfolded in a printed letter, addressed to the board of trustees,
and extending to more than one hundred octavo pages.

A large edition of the letter was speedily exhausted by the calls
made for it from every portion of the state, and the board of trustees,
at their meeting in July last, were so impressed with the importance
of the views presented in the letter, that they ordered the printing
of another and larger edition, by the following resolutions : —

Whereas, In the opinion of the board of trustees, the recoramendations con-
tained in the printed letter of President Barnard, submitted at the present meet-
ing of the board, as to changes to be made in the course of instruction in the uni-
versity, the general views of which are approved, deserve a deliberate examination ;
thej'efore, be it

Resolved, That a committee of five be appointed to confer with the president,
and with him to devise a plan for carrying into eftect the suggestions contained
in his letter • and report to the next annual meeting of this board, the course of
study and organizjition of the several departments, best calculated to secure the
object therein indicated.

Whereas, In the opinion of this board, the letter recently addressed to the
board, through the press, by President Barnard, contains matter which ought to
be universally diffused among the friends of education, and especially among the
people of Mississippi ; be it

Resolved, That one thousand copies of said letter be printed for the use of the
board, and for general distribution.

The letter has attracted much attention at the hands of dis-
tinguished gentlemen throughout the country, who are themselves
engaged in the work of education, and their numerous commenda-
tory letters, addressed to its author, afford an ample and gratifying
testimony in corroboration of the soundness of his views. A com-
mittee of the board of trustees has been charged with the duty of
investigating and reporting upon the proposed changes advocated
in the letter.

President Barnard has, all his life, possessed a great proclivity to
mechanical invention. In his boyhood, he was constantly engaged in
the construction of some species of mechanical contrivance, and the
propensity has never disappeared. At the meeting of the American
Association for the Advancement of Science, lield in Baltimore, in
April, 1858, he presented a description of an electric clock, construct-
ed, according to his designs, by Ritchie, of Boston. In this very
beautiful piece of mechanism, the pendulum receives its impulse from
two small weights, alternately raised by magnetic power, while the
pendulum itself is entirely free. So long ago as the year 1848, he

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 517

invented a printing telegraph, capable of performing with greater
rapidity than any in use ; each letter requiring, for its production, but
a single electric impulse, instead of such a succession as is necessary
in the instruments which allow all the intervening letters to escape,
one by one, before that which is desired can be reached. The instru-
ment, however, required the use of the relay magnet and local bat-
tery, which were covered by Morse's patent ; and it has never, there-
fore, been brought into use.

In the year 1854, President Barnard was admitted to deacon's or-
ders in the ministry of the Protestant Episcopal church, by the Rt.
Rev. Bishop Cobbs, of Alabama ; and, in 1855, he was ordained a
presbyter in 'the same church, by Rt. Rev. Bishop Green, of Missis-
sippi. On his removal to Oxford, the parish in that village naturally
fell under his charge, and he has continued to hold the rectorship up
to this time — preaching, ordinarily, on two Sundays in each month.
How he finds the time, in the midst of so many and such engrossing
avocations, for the preparation of his pulpit discourses, is a standing
surprise to all who are aware of the number and extent of his vari-
ous employments. As a composition, each of his sermons seems to
have been as elaborately finished, as though the toil of weeks had
been bestowed upon it ; and yet, it is known that his sermons are
actually prepared in the course of a few brief hours, during which he
is often liable to interruption. His sermons display, also, a range of
theological reading, whose breadth might well excite the astonish-
ment of those who know how recently he has taken holy orders.
Indeed, to listen to him in the pulpit, no one would suppose him to
be a comparatively unpracticed clergyman ; and all who can appreci-
ate sincere and glowing piety, set forth and advanced with rare felicity
of style, clearness of statement, force of logic, and poetic beauty of
illustration, must regret that talents like his have not been exclu-
sively devoted to the church.

It has been said of him, that the most remarkable characteristic
of his mind, is his versatility. In all the various walks of letters and
science which he has at different times pursued, he seems equally at
home. He has evidently been " doing one thing at a time," during
all his life ; and has made it a rule to exhaust every subject of invest-
igation, before he laid it aside. Whatever he has once mastered, he
has retained with such a freshness of recollection that, seemingly
without mental effort, he passes from subject to subject, without em-
barrassment, or confusion of ideas, and calmly draws forth from his
mental treasures "things new and old," as the exigences of the
moment may require.

513 FREDERICK A P BARNARD.

The ^''Letter'''' which President Barnard addressed to the board of
trustees of the University of Mississippi, in 1858, is so full of sugges-
tions of the highest practical imparlance to the efficiency and fuller
development of our American collegiate and university system, that
we must enrich our pages with a few extracts.

In this, as in his former publications on the subject, the writer
claims that the expansion of the range of studies, without extending
the time in which these studies are to be pursued, has impaired the
efficiency of the system, in its original and legitimate aim — the dis-
cipline and training of the intellectual powers — without giving to the
students a thorough mastery of any one of the many new subjects
introduced. This evil he attributes, not to the inefficiency of the
professors, or to their defective methods of instruction, but to the
system itself.

The evil has been the growth of years. It has accumulated by degrees almost
imperceptible. Each successive addition has probably seemed inconsiderable to
those who made it. but the united sum has become intolerable. Could it, in the
nature of things, have been possible that a proposition should at any one time
have been made for a sudden change from the system, as it existed a century ago,
to the system of to-day, it is inconceivable that it should have been entertained
by enlightened educators for a moment.

To relieve the course of under-graduate study in our colleges of

some part of its excessive burthen, and at the same time to meet the

demands of the age for instruction in the studies which have been

introduced, President Barnard proposes to divide the studies into

distinct and semrate courses — a sub-graduate and a post-graduate

department.

The sub-graduate course may be defined by the very simple process of exclud-
ing from the curriculum of study, as it stands at present, all those branches of sci-
ence which are confessedly modern additions, and, along with these, the modern
languages. This course will, therefore, as reconstructed, embrace the English,
Latin, and Greek languages, all the elementary branches of the pure mathemat-
ics, the mechanical branches of natural philosophy, logic, rhetoric, the principles
of criticism, moral and mental philosophy, composition, and elocution. These
several branches of study are to be pursued to something like the extent, and
with something like the thoroughness, contemplated in the earlier period (jf the
history of our collegiate instruction. To these it may not be thought improper
to add, during the concluding year, succinct expo-sitorj' courses in cliemistiy and
the subjects of natural philosophy, not strictly mechanical ; these topics being
taught avowedly in outline only, and not as matters to be embraced in the exam-
ination for the Bachelor's degree.

To the post-graduate department, may be turned over those branches of science
and letters which arc excluded from the former, and which are confessedly, at
present, but imperfectly taught; and the number of these may, from time to time,
be increased, by adding new ones, as the wants of the public and the growing
resources of the university may deiuand or justify. Thus it may immediately
include astronomy, geology, mineralogy, chemistry, natural philosophy, meteor-
ology, civil engineering, the higher branches of the pure mathematics, Greek and
Roman letters, the modern languages and their literature, political economy,
international law, constitutional law, and the history of philosophy ; but it proba-
bly wi/Z include, at fii-st, only such of this list aa are most practical in their n.-iture.
As, in creating this department, the design should be, from the beginning, to build

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 519

up here ultimately a uuivei-sity in the largest acceptation of that term, it is to bo
expected that, in the progress of years, schools of agriculture, of natural history,
of medical science, of civil and political history, &c., &c.

The post-graduate department is to be open to all who may wish

to go thorouglily to the bottom of any subject which the university

proposes to teach, and for which he has prepared himself in school, /

or by private study ; but the master's degree is not to be conferred

upon any one who has not graduated as Bachelor of Arts, in this or

some other college. When students of mature minds resort, of their

own option, to a school of higher learning, like that contemplated, it

is presumed they will be in earnest in the pursuit of knowledge.

The above assumption can not safely be made of the body of the under-gradu-
atcs of our colleges. Nor is it difficult to find reasons for a fact of so general
observation. One of these is, doubtless, the immaturity of the youthful student
himself; in consequence of which, he is yet to learn both the importance of mentiil
culture, and the value of positive knowlcilge. Another is presented in the cir-
cumstance that the under-graduate student is not always, perhaps not usually, a
member of an institution of learning, entirely of his own voluntary choice ; but
that he has become such, in compliance with the wishes of his parents and
friends: often with no other feeling on his own part than a desire to make his
college life pass away as agreeably as circumstances will allow ; a desire which
does not always prompt him to seek for enjoyment by the most rational means.

In the higher department, or post-graduate course, of the univers-
ity, President Barnard proposes to employ the plan of daily recita-
tion only to a limited extent, and to resort mainly to oral exposition
on the part of the teacher.

According to Sir William Hamilton, all instruction was originally given, in the
universities of England, as it continues to be in the continental universities, by lec-
ture. The colleges and halls, which now monopolize the principal work of teach-
ing in those venerable institutions, were erected to provide for the physical wants
of the students, and to secure a vigilant supervision over their morals. The of-
ficers, called tutors, employed by the colleges for the latter purpose, gradually took
upon themselves the character of instructors, by exacting from the youth under
their charge, a repetition of what they had learned in the public lecture-halls.
To this kind of recitation, they subsequently added recitation from books. The
evident design of the exercise, in its origin, was that in which we find its chief
utility at present — to insure the attention of the pupil to the subject which he is
required to know. The distinctive name given by the French, to the othcer whose
duty it is merely to hear recitations, makes it sufhciently evident what idea is as-
sociated with the exercise by them. This name — repetiteur — suggests to the
mind the bare repetition of a task, as that which it is the business of the officer
to secure. * « *

All that Melancthon has said, all that Hamilton has said, all that any pane-
gyrist of the system of daily examination, as a means of instruction, has said, in
regard to the incidental advantages growing out of the method, is admitted with-
out any hesitation. It stimulates emulation, it cultivates self-possession, it encour-
ages or enforces precision of speech, it abates conceit, it convinces of deficiency.
But all these resultant benefits presume the immaturity of the learner ; and most
of them presume, furthermore, that an unceasing constraint is necessary to com-
pel him to profit by the instructions he receives. * * *

It will be conceded that, considered as an instructive, and not as a coercive
method, the system of daily examination is attended with some incidental advan-
tages, besides those which have just been enumerated. It is a possibility that a
student, who has failed to comprehend some point embraced in the text of his les-
son, may be enlightened, by listening to the performance of a fellow-student. It

520 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

is also a possibility, or rather a fact of frequent occurrence, that the imperfect per-
formance of an individual scholar, may indicate to the instructor the deficiencies
of that individual, and so elicit explanatory comments or illustrations. It is fur-
ther true, that the instructor may volunteer explanations' and elucidations of
points of ditKculty, even though occasion may not arise to force their introduction.

An acute instructor, moreover, by tlfe ingenious selection of interrogatories,
will bring out the weak points of a pupil, as a lawyer does those of a witness ; or will
bring into prominent relief the points of the subjects under consideration, which are
of highest importance. ]5ut, beyond this, it is certainly true, that it is only in so far
as, for whatever reason, the instructor does actually superadd his own teachings
to the text of the lesson, that any talents or attainments, which may belong to
him personally, can be of any sort of use to his pupils. For all the purposes of
mere recitation, any man, who is capable of understanding what the pupil says,
and of reading the book or books from which he has learned it, so as to compare
the performance with the text, is as good and as capable a presiding officer and
examiner in a class-room, as any other. The teacher, therefore, who meets his
classes for no purpose at any time but to " hear their recitations," is not really a
teacher, except in so far as he ingrafts upon this exercise the expository feature
which is the distinguishing characteristic of the plan of instruction by lecture. To
do this, however, to any extent, in the recitation-room, without seriously interfer-
ing with the specific design for which the exercise of recitation was primarily in-
stituted, is proved by experience to be impracticable. Class recitations have, at
best, the great disadvantage, that either but few out of a large number can per-
form at all, or that each one who performs shall be under examination for so brief
a space of time as nearly to defeat every useful object, and to render the exercise
little better than an idle form.

Another serious vice of the system, is its pernicious influence on the teacher.
To whatever degree it may be coercive to the student, it is not in the least so to
him. It stimulates him to no self- improvement, and awakens in him no ambition
for higher attainments, on the one hand ; and it affords him no adequate field for
the display of genius, or for the turning of accumulated knowledge to use, on the
other. Instead of this, the opportunity which it offers him of sinking, without
observation, into a mere cipher, is a real, a perpetual, and a most insidious tempta-
tion to sloth. The difiiculty of employing, in the recitation room, the expository
mode of instruction, without overreaching too far upon the exercise proper to the
hour, is enough, in itself, to repress in the teacher the teaching spirit, and to
cause him constantly to tend to the level of the mere repeliteur. How danger-
ously is this tendency increased, by the fact that its downward direction coincides
precisely with that in which the native love of ease is perpetually dragging all man-
kind ! For this great evil, there is but one antagonistic influence, which can be
of any avail : it is that of a living, fervent, zeal in his work, existing in the in-
structor himself; a zeal, not in the work of conducting recitations, as the remark
might seem to imply, but which would be ridiculous — a zeal, rather, in the higher
and nobler work of training immortal minds to vigor, and capacitating them for
usefulness. The college officer, therefore, of the present day, whose interest in
Ills profession is bounded by the fact, certainly uninspiring, however important to
himself, that it secures to him the means of living, is in imminent danger of laps-
ing into a mere automaton.

The advantages of oral teaching are thus set forth : —

According to tlie plan, if the teacher possesses any knowledge on the subject
of study, vvliich is not contained in the books of the course, or not easily acces-
sible to the student, or if the sources from wliich such knowledge may be ob-
tained are above the present level of the student's capacity, this knowledge will
be brought out and made available. And if he possesses any power of clear anal-
ysis, or of luminous illustration ; if he possesses, as he ought, in order to occupy
fitly a position of this high responsibility, that mastery over his theme which be-
longs to the man who has ceased to think of the truth which ho teaches as of a
something found in books, and of which all that he knows is knowledge gathered
at second-hand ; but who has independently interrogated the sources of informa-
tion himself, and stands in immediate contact with nature and with thought, feel-
ing ao need of an interpreter — if this is his own intellectual character, this the

FREDERICK A.. P. BARNARD. 521

degree of his intellectual cultivation, and this the comprehensive scope of his ac-
quired resources — then his teachings will carry with them, to the minds of his
hearers, a fullness of satisfaction, and fasten themselves there with a permanency
of impression, such as no amount of perusal of mere lifeless text-books, written
down to the level of their immediate attainments, no matter how earnestly attent-
ive, or how conscientiously faithful the perusal may be, can ever produce.

Not that from such a system of instruction books are to be discarded. By no
means. Not only will the necessity of books continue to be as absolutely impera-
tive, as under any system whatever of recitation from a text ; but the multiplica-
tion of books will be an inevitable consequence. For, while the instructor will aim
to expound all that relates to theory or doctrine, he will not embarrass his class-
room with the lumber of innumerable applications, which, however useful they may
be, are the proper labor of the student himself, in his solitary study ; neither, in
regard to simple matters of plain fact, of which a multitude are strewn along
the path of every walk in science, will he consider it expedient to occupy time
in stating, in minute detail, what can be found in every book, and what needs
but to be read once to be understood. For their necessary enlightenment in
matters such as these, he will refer his pupils to certain selected authors, of which
he will designate the portions which require their attention, with as much
regularity as if they were to be subjected to examination upon the same passages.
But he will not always confine himself to one author, nor always give the same
author preference ; for his business is to teach a subject, and not a book; and
books, therefore, are not his guides, but his helps. Nor will the student find it
quite a practicable thing to disregard the recommendations thus made, or to neg-
lect the perusal, or rather severe study, of the books designated ; for he will
shortly discover that this study is indispensable to his understanding and properly
profiting by the instructions of his own immediate teacher.

The two salient merits of the method of instruction here proposed, then, for
the class of learners contemplated, are, first, that it both permits and compels the
teacher to be a teacher, and neither constrains nor allows him to sink into inac-
tivity, nor to content himself with presiding in empty state over an exercise to
which he is conscious of contributing nothing valuable ; and, secondly, that it
makes knowledge itself, and not the substance of any treatise upon knowledge,
not any artificial form into which knowledge has been thrown, the immediate
subject of teaching.

To make the plan of oral teaching more effective, President Bar-
nard proposes to introduce another feature, somewhat peculiar : —

This is to afford to the members of the class, pursuing their studies in any
school, the opportunity, after the instructor shall have completed the exposition
of the topic of the day, to bring up for re-examination points which still remain
to them obscure, or to ask further information in regard to matters which may not
have been fully explained. This is, in fact, to inaugurate a species of recitation in
which the student and teacher reverse the positions usual in this exercise. The
student questions ; the teacher replies. The student should even be permitted,
if he pleases, in cases which admit of argument, to take issue with his instructor,
and to present his reasons for his opinions. Discussion will be advantageous to
both parties, and will keep more actively alive the interest felt by the class in the
subject of study.

But the larger portion of the "Xe^^er" is devoted to an elaborate
effort to induce the trustees, by inaugurating the project of a post-
graduate department, to take a first decided step in the direction of a
higher development of the educational system of the state.

The character of every school, from the highest to the lowest, within our bord-
ers, is to be determined ultimately by the respectability or the inferiority of this.
Though it is true that but a fraction of the people will receive their personal in-
struction within the university halls, yet all, without exception, will be partakers
of the benefits of which the university is to be the fountain-head and the central
source. If the institution does not immediately teach the entire people, it will

522 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

teach their teachers ; or, what is equivalent to this, it will force every instructor,
whom it does not itself instruct, to come up to the standard it prescribes, on
penalty of being else driven from the educational field. * * *

But what is the university of to-day ? What, but a training school for imma-
ture minds — impaired, indeed, in its usefulness for this purpose, by the very at-
tempt to accomplish, along with it, other and entirely incompatible objects? If
the people suppose that this is a place to make practical men, or learned men, or
profoundly scientific men — if they suppose that it is within the reach of possibility
for the university, under the existing system, to turn out accomplished engineers,
or expert chemists, or proficient astronomers, or profound philosophers, or even
finished scholars — we know very well that they are deceived. Not that this insti-
tution fells any further shoi't of accomplishing these ends, or fails any more sig-
nally to meet this popular impression, than other American colleges ; but that the
power to do these things seems, by foi-ce of a general hallucination, to be attribu-
ted to colleges as a class, while, in point of fact, it does not actually exist in any
one of the whole number. * * *

The existence of the want of institutions of a higher than merely collegiate
grade, as a reality, is made evident by the earnest and urgent demand, spoken of
earlier in this communication, which has been, for the last thirty or forty years, so
extensively heard, for something or other which the existing educational system
does not supply. This demand, so far as it has proceeded from scholars and men
of science, has taken the specific form of a demand for universities called by that
name ; because scholaj's and men of science have been able to perceive distinctly,
that the university was the precise thing needed to satisfy the want. But when
it has come from the people — and from the people it has come very steadily, for at
least a quarter of a century — it has been, not for the university by name, but for
new schools of some vaguely-conceived description ; for colleges to be broken up
and destroyed in all that regards the province of their past usefulness, and built up
anew upon some visionary plan, and according to some impracticable theory ; for
schools of science, as applied to the arts of construction, of agriculture, of manu-
factures, and every thing useful to mankind, but chiefly things useful according
to that literal sense which confounds utility with increase of wealth ; for schools,
in short, which should do what the collegiate schools do not do, and what we know
that it is not necessary or even proper that they should do — prepare men, so far as
schools can prepare them, to take directly hold of the real business of life. No
one is ignorant that this demand has existed for a period at least as long as as-
serted ; that, at times, it has been vociferous and violent ; or that, not content with
insisting on the creation of new schools, to accomplish the ends desired, it has
turned, occasionally, almost in a spirit of vindictive destructiveness, upon the old,
because they did not accomplish those same ends.

These demands, the undersigned ventures to assert, are evidence of the want
of higher universities. Not because they ask for the university ; not because their
authors, if the university were proposed to them as a remedy, would be likely to
accept it; but because the present inconvenience, which is so sensibly felt, is one
which the university would remove, though those who feel it do not perceive how.
And why not ? Because first, looking at universities, as they have been in past
centuries, as the repositories of literary lore, as the resorts of scholars dealing
with abstractions, as the burrowing-places of book-worms, eating out the hearts
of the black-Utter volumes of the sixteenth century, or of the manuscripts of the
sixth, as the unchallenged domain of gramn)arians and lexicographers, of com-
mentators upon Aristotle and Longinus, ingenious speculators upon the mysteries
of the digamma, and indefatigable elaborators of ethical and logical niceties, they
picture them, in their imaginations, even to this hour, as solemn and shadowy re-
treats, still smelling of the dust and mold of antiquity, where philology, linguistic
philosophy, and the sublimer metaphysics brood, like the pensive owl in Gray's
churchyard turret, with none to

*' Molest tlieir ancient solitary reign."

But this conception is entirely erroneous. The university, in the sense in which
the name is now generally received, no matter what may have been its original
acceptation, is Universitas Scientinrum ; it is, in other words, an institution in
which the highest learning of its day is taught in every walk of human knowledge.

FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD. 523

When classic learning, philosophy, and logic, were subjects of the higliest inter-
est in human estimation, it is not surprising that the character of university teach-
ing should have been principally determined by them. But, inasmuch as, at the
present day, physical science has attained a position of actual dignity, immeasur-
ably higher than it then enjoyed, and as its useful applications have become al-
most endlessly more numerous and varied, the university of to-day would fail to
be what its name imports, if it did not assign a corresponding prominence to these
subjects — subjects, be it observed, which happen to be the same for which the
agitators we have been speaking of demand that a special provision of special schools
shall be made. * * *

There is, however, a second class of agitators, who, while admitting the justice of
the foregoing reproseutation, are not disposed to accept the university as a remedy for
the inconvenience they suff n', because, while it gives them all that they demand, it
gives them at the same time much more — much for which they do not ask, and
for which they do not care. They fear so great a project, as the creation of an
institution, professing, and really preparing itself, to teach everything embraced in
the entire circle of human knowledge. They fear that, in attempting this, they
shall attempt what is beyond their means; and that, by grasping too much, they
shall loose every thing. It is believed that all this class of persons, if they right-
fully interpret our views, will find that we are entirely in accordance with them,
and they with us. For no such visionary scheme is entertained by any one con-
nected with this institution, as that of creating here, in a day, a university, com-
plete in all the many-faced aspects of a repository of universal truth, and a dis-
penser of universal knowledge, AVhat is aimed at, what is recommended, is only,
as already stated, to take a first step in the right direction — a step which shall,
indeed, ultimately conduct to the fulfillment of the great idea, but which shall not
be itself the fulfillment — a step which will mark only the beginning of a progress,
in which, advancing only as the growing intelligence and increasing wants of the
people of the state shall urge it, the University of Mississippi may, to the eyes of
a future generation, at length pi-esent the lustrous spectacle which the comprehen-
sive idea of a true university implies.

There is still another class, whose views on the subject under consideration can
not be overlooked — a class possibly the most numerous of all those who concern
themselves about it •, or, if not the most numerous, at any rate, by far the most
impracticable. Those are here indicated who deny the utility of high learning
altogether. They are, of cour.se, utilitarians in the technical sense of that word.
Let any thing tend to promote the bodily comfort of the race — let it furnish man
with food, or keep him warm, or put a barrier between him and the weather —
and that is a useful thing. By consequence, therefore, science does, occasionally,
in some of its practical results, command their partial consideration ; but, for
science or learning as a whole, a matter between which and the increase of wealth
no connection in the relation of cause and effect is to their minds obvious, they
liave no respect whatever. To elevate the intellectual man in the scale of being,
to enable him to form larger and juster views than his unaided senses or his indi-
vidual, casual, and unsystematic observation has qualified him to conceive, of the
power and wisdom and goodness of the great Architect of the universe, to intro-
duce him to a world of enjoyments growing out of the exercise of the godlike in-
tellect upon subjects of beauty, and sublimity, and deep-seated and with delight-
fully difficult effort laboriously unraveled truth — enjoyments such as doubtless oc-
cupy cherubic intelligences, in their rapt contemplation of the wonderful works of
God — all this the mere utilitarian philosopher, ever like the man with the muck-
rake in Bunyan, looking downward, fails to comprehend and to appreciate; and
all arguments addressed to him, founded upon the consideration, to which he is
insensible, that knowledge is valuable for its own sake, are wholly thrown -awav.

Is, then, scientific knowledge useful ? Few objectors will take the broad ground
of denying all utility to science ; or of denying utility to all sciences. Few will
hesitate to admit that every science furnishes some facts that are useful. Even
the patient and diligent collector of bugs, and butterflies, and caterpillars, though
looked down upon in a general way by the utilitarian with an amusingly sublime
loftiness of contemptuous regard, if he but intimate a behef that he is upon the
sure trace of a method of exterminating the insect scourges of the cotton-field, is

524 FREDERICK A. P. BARNARD.

listened to with respectful, nay, with greedy ears, and is elevated at once to a
position of comparative dignity. No scoffer at science, therefore, ever scoffs at
the science, or at the facts of science, which he understands ; understands, that is
to say, not as simple, isolated facts, a thing which is generally easy — but under-
stands in all their bearings, and relations, and far-reaching affiliations with other
facts with which they have no obvious or visible connection — a thing which is
often not easy at all, « * *

When Priestly, in 1774, turning the focus of his burning lens upon the sub-
stance known in the shops of the apothecaries under the name of red precipitate,
detached bubbles of a gas identical with that which, in the atmosphere, supports
life, who could presume that, in thus freeing one of the metals from its companion
element, he had detected the composition of many of the most useful ores, and
furnished a liint winch was yet to i-edueo all metallurgie art, from the smelting of
iron to the reduction of aluminium, under the dominion of chemical science, and
to the severe rule of an intelligent and a productive economy ? When, in the
same year, Scheele, by operating on the acid of sea-salt, made first visible to hu-
man eyes that colored gas whose suffocating odor is now so well known to all the
world, who could foresee the astonishing revolution which a discovery, then inter-
esting only for its curious beauty, was destined to introduce into the manufacture
of paper, of linen textures, and of a vast multitude of other objects, of daily and
hourly use? Or what imagination could have been extravagant enough, or fan-
tastic enough, in the exercise of its inventive power, to anticipate that a substance,
for the moment not merely useless but seemingly noxious, would, in the nine-
teenth century, accomplish what, without it, no instrumentality known to science
or art could have accomplished — find aliment for the rapacious maw of a letter-
press, whose insatiable demands, already grown vast beyond all conception, grow
yet with each succeeding year ? When the chemists of the last century observed
the discoloration and degradation which certain metallic salts undergo in the sun-
light, who could possibly read, in a circumstance so apparently trivial, though oc-
casionally troublesome, the intimation that the sun himself was about to place in
the hands of Niepce, and Daguerre, and Talbot, a pencil, whose magical powers
of delineation should cause the highest achievements of human pictorial art to
seem poor and rude in the comparison? When Mains, in 1810, watching the
glare of the sun's rays, reflected from the windows of the Luxembourg to his
own, noticed for the first time the curious phenomena attendant on that peculiar
condition of light which has since been known by the name of polarization, what
prescience could have connected a fact so totally without any perceptible utility,
with the manufacture of sugar in France ; or have anticipated that an instrument,
founded in principle on this very property, would, forty years later, effect an an-
nual saving to the French people U) the extent of hundreds of tliousands of francs ?
When CErsted, in 1819, observed the disturbance of the magnetic needle by the
influence of a neighboring galvanic current, how wild and visionary would not
that man have been pronounced to be, who should have professed to read, in an
indication so slight, the grand truth that science had, that day, stretched out the
scepter of her authority over a winged messenger, whose fleetness should make
a laggard even of Oberon's familiar sprite, and render the velocity which could
" put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes " tardy and unsatisfying?

Questions of this kind, suggested by the history of scientific progress, might be
multiplied to fill a volume. Indeed, it has almost come to be a dogma in science,
that there is no new truth whatever, no matter how wide a space may seem, in
the hour of its discovery, to divide it from any connection with the material inter-
ests of man, which carries not within it the latent seeds of a utility, which fur-
ther discovery, in the same field, will reveal and cause to germinate.

We would gladly follow President Barnard through his glowing
argument, in behalf of higher learning but we must refer our read-
ers to the ''Letter''' itself.

ONE MONTH "I'

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THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY

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